Starcross'd
by Luke In Blue
Summary: (SLASH, SR) James, Sirius and Peter are in their fourth year, about to accept a fourth Marauder into their circle. Thus begins the tale of Remus J. Lupin, his life, his lycanthropy and his love. (INCOMPLETE) (ch.2 up!)
1. Part One: CRESCENT

**Starcross'd: part 1 (one): CRESCENT  
  
By:** Fala Reflects The Madness Within Tzipori  
  
**Written:** Summer, 2004  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Genre:** Romance, Drama, Angst, Humour  
**Pairing(s):** Sirius/Remus, James/Lily  
**Warnings:** slash, strife, kinky foreshadowing, overused puns, exploitation of the French language and an Obligatory Shower Scene (TM).  
**Plot:** At the start of their fourth year at Hogwarts, James, Sirius and Peter are surprised and intrigued by the new transfer student, one Remus Lupin. Said transfer student, one Remus Lupin, is surprised and intrigued by other things ::koffandotherpeoplekoff::  
**Spoilers:** None, I do not think . . .  
**Dedications/Thanks:** HUGE thanks to Carlea, über-talented talented writer and grammar-Nazi extraordinaire for beta-ing all ninety seven pages of this shite. Thanks so much, love. You so totally rool.  
**Disclaimers:** The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'll return them before their warranty's spent.  
**Other comments/schtuff:** n/a  
  
A short, stocky boy called Peter Pettigrew passed through the deceptively solid brick wall as easily as if through water and emerged on the other side. He gripped the handle of his trolley and joined the collective sea of black robes that was massing round the scarlet train emblazoned with _The Hogwarts Express_. Most of the students were already on the train, from the looks of the shapes moving about in the windows, but there was still a fair-sized crowd on the platform. As the students milled about, barely noticing he was there and chatting excitedly amongst themselves, Peter stood on his tiptoes, trying to see over their shoulders, searching them for a hint of familiar black hair . . .  
  
Hoy, Peter! Over here!  
  
Peter turned and saw his two friends standing by the wall a bit to his left and he began pushing his trolley toward them. James Potter was stood in front of his own luggage, holding his broomstick at a fastidious angle. His hair looked as dark and unruly as ever, though possibly a trifle longer and his socks had fallen into folds round his thin ankles, revealing the slightest hint of muscle gain. He'd talked all summer about trying out for Seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch team and it was obvious he'd been practicing and getting in shape. Sirius Black could have attested to that. He'd stayed with James for more than half of the summer holidays and had spent a great deal of time batting Muggle ping-pong balls into the air for his friend to catch. He was now leaning against the wall across from James, his arms crossed over his chest. Sirius was very good-looking with his smoothly muscular frame, cocksure blue-grey eyes and soft black hair which he'd let grow out over the summer. The slight smiles he was directing at passing girls revealed that he was also quite aware of how handsome he was.   
  
All right, Pettigrew? James said, smoothly tossing the broom from his left hand to his right.  
  
Hi, James, Peter greeted his friend with a nod and a smile of his own. Hi, Sirius.  
  
What took you so long? Sirius inquired, audibly bored as he combed a sheaf of hair behind his ear with his fingers. We've been waiting for half an hour.  
  
Sorry . . . Peter said sheepishly, We got halfway to here and my Remembrall went off and then I remembered I'd forgotten my cauldron.  
  
Well, let's get on the train and bagsie our car before some other idiot does, Sirius said, pushing off from the wall and taking hold of his trolley. The three friends then went about boarding the train. The trio had first met in the rearmost car of the train on their journey to Hogwarts in their first year, and, since then, it had become a sort of tradition for them to claim that car as their own when they rode the train back to school.  
  
Now, in their fourth year, they found they they would not have to break this tradition, per se, but they would have to bend it slightly, for when they entered car, they found that someone was already there.  
  
A smallish boy stood on tiptoe with his back to them, stowing his trunk in the overhead compartment. He was grunting and panting a bit from the effort at trying to push the bulky trunk which looked to be about as heavy as he was into the tight space.   
  
The stranger was lean and a bit gangly beneath too-big secondhand robes. His hair was the warm, weary colour of sun-dried earth and fell in forlorn, messy layers round his head. He appeared to be possibly a bit shorter than James and definitely shorter than Sirius, who was the tallest of the four. He did not hear the three come in and they, a bit alarmed at finding car invaded, could only watch him in silence. Finally, he managed to get the thing into the compartment and for a second simply stood, panting and looking up at it as if admiring a work of art. It was then that James found his voice. Well, that looked difficult.  
  
The boy turned round sharply, the excess of fabric flopping lazily at his legs. The slender hands that poked out of the baggy sleeves were held in an uneasy half-curl. His face was narrow and diminished. His eyebrows were set at earnest angles above his his eyes, which were ochre in colour and a bit slanted. They were keen, clear, and true eyes, but the shadows closed in on them, making them quiet, slightly feral and sad. All at once, he perked up and a shy smile shaped his thin mouth. he said.  
  
Er, mind if we join you? Sirius said, trying to keep the annoyance (at not having car to themselves) out of his voice.  
  
The stranger shrugged. I don't mind. He sat and watched the other three struggle with their own luggage, then sit themselves down. Peter took a seat next to him while James and Sirius sat across from them. They were silent for a moment, simply exchanging awkward glances before James spoke up. I'm James. James Potter.  
  
Sirius Black, Sirius said, still slightly annoyed.  
  
Peter Pettigrew, Peter introduced himself.  
  
I'm Remus, the boy said with a friendly smile. Remus Lupin.  
  
Lupine? Like the flower, Lupine? Sirius commented with an amused smirk.   
  
Remus smiled and shook his head. No e' on the end.  
  
Oh, that sounds French! Peter remarked excitedly, as if he were thrilled that he had something to contribute to the conversation Is your family French? I had a French nanny once. She used to read Muggle fairy tales in French to me, like _Little Red Riding H_-  
  
I'm not French, Remus said sharply. Peter shut his mouth, surprised at the clipped tone of voice Remus had used.   
  
Fortunately, James rescued the conversation before an awkward silence could settle in. So, where are you from? No wait, let me try and guess. He thought for a second, studying Remus for any additional clues he might derive from his appearance. You sound a little Northern. Cambridge?  
  
Remus smiled and averted his eyes as he shyly answered, The other three shared a let's-try-not-to-snigger-shall-we? look and Remus rolled his eyes. I know, I know. Farm boy.  
  
James said, though he was clearly stifling some mirth himself. You don't sound that far north, really.  
  
I was born in Blackpool. We moved when I was six, Remus explained. We've lived all over, really, but we stopped in Yorkshire when I was eleven. I did live in Cambridge for a year, though. Before that, we were in Manchester for a while, then we moved to Aylesbury. . . he furrowed his brow pensively. Wait a minute . . . He then began counting his past hometowns off on his fingers, Blackpool, Manchester, oh right, we spent a few months in Birmingham, _then_ we went to Aylesbury. Cambridge was last before we went to Yorkshire. Well, we lived with my gran in Leicester for a month between, if that counts.  
  
Hence the muddled accent, Sirius noted sleekly. Remus humoured him with a nod. Peter, however, seemed genuinely impressed. Wow, that's a lot of moving. I have an aunt in Aylesbury-  
  
Hang on, James interrupted, waving his hand, You said you moved when you _were_ eleven, as in you're not eleven anymore?  
  
Remus tilted an eyebrow. That's right. I am fourteen.  
  
So you're not a first year, James confirmed.   
  
Remus shook his head. I'm transferring.  
  
Sirius frowned. I didn't know you could transfer to Hogwarts.  
  
Remus shrugged uneasily. He was no longer looking at the others and was fidgeting nervously with a loose thread on the sleeve of his robes.   
  
All at once, the train gave a sharp jerk underneath them, making their luggage rattle in the overhead compartments. The train had begun to move and the station outside the windows soon became a blur of greys. A few moments later, a kind-faced witch came by the car with a trolley full of snack foods. The four traded gold for munchies and the remainder of the train ride passed in a pleasant haze of conversation, cake, chocolate, and laughter. By the time they arrived at Hogwarts, the three had gotten to know Remus and found that while he was a little evasive and withdrawn when certain topics were discussed, they enjoyed his company well enough to forgive him his trespasses. Even Sirius had gotten over his little grudge and was laughing with Remus about a chocolate frog Peter had accidentally let escape the previous year. Apparently it had hopped into the next car over and given a first-year Hufflepuff girl quite a fright.  
  
When they rode up to the castle in the strangely horseless carriages, Remus rode with Peter as James and Sirius seemed inseparable and he was hardly one to try and come between two best friends.  
  
Upon reaching the castle, James and Sirius expected to regroup with the other two, but were surprised to find themselves greeted only by Peter who simply pointed to the group of first-years clustered toward the front of the Great Hall. Standing noticeably taller amongst them was Remus.  
  
James smacked his forehead. Of course, he's never been here before, so he's got to be Sorted first. He, Sirius and Peter took seats at the Gryffindor House table and turned to watch the Sorting, which began with Argent, Ginger! (__).  
  
So, where d'you think he'll get into? Peter asked a few minutes into the Sorting. He was looking down at his empty dinner plate with anticipation.  
  
Sirius shrugged. Dunno. He's kind of twiggy, doesn't look like he'd be good for Quidditch or anything. Probably Hufflepuff.  
  
James, who was also fairly , kicked his friend under the table for saying that such people weren't good at Quidditch, then added, He talks really well for a farm boy. You know how people who read a lot of books talk really well? I'm banking on Ravenclaw- Oh, look, new Gryffindor! James applauded with the rest of the table as Fairchild, Beverly was Sorted into Gryffindor.  
  
He seems nice enough, Peter said quietly. But there's something . . . I dunno, _off _about him. I mean, did you hear him when we were talking? He practically _snapped _at me. His eyes are really strange-looking, too. Every time he looked at me it gave me the creeps.  
  
He was probably nervous, James reasoned dismissively. Remember how nervous you were in our first year? You were shaking so badly you couldn't even ask where the toilet was.  
  
So you wet yourself, Sirius added and laughed. James laughed as well, remembering the incident very clearly.  
  
Keep it down, will you? Peter pleaded, looking round and making sure no one had heard them. And I still think there's something weird about him. Something scary. I wouldn't be surprised if he got put in-  
  
__  
  
James said suddenly, silencing Peter with a hand on the shoulder and pointing the front of the Great Hall where Knetch, Charlotte had just been Sorted and Lupin, Remus! had been called for.   
  
He won't get in Slytherin, James added quickly. Remember, on the train he told us he's half and half. Slytherins are almost always purebloods.  
  
Point taken, Peter nodded and turned to watch their friend get Sorted. A slight kink of anxiety hitched his stride as Remus approached the stool and the three could see the other first years whispering amongst themselves as they watched him. He sat down and the hat was placed on his head.   
  
It was always amusing to watch the newcomers twitch with surprise when the Hat began to speak. Remus started a bit when the seam in the hat opened.   
  
_Hmm, tricky. Let me see . . . Well, clearly the mind is not lacking as you've managed to cram three years' worth of magical knowledge in this head over the course of a year with a tutor,_ the hat mused aloud. _Common sense and compassion aplenty also. There's a great deal of daring here, as well, though you don't always show it. After all, you're very brave to come here at all, considering the circumstances . . ._  
  
Remus twitched uneasily at that and vaguely wondered whether or not this conversation was private or whether the Hat was about to go blabbing his utmost secrets to the entire school right then and there.   
  
_Don't worry, no one can hear me but you. I may be a Hat, but I've mind enough to keep secrets . . . well, secret,_ it threw in quickly and Remus felt a swoop of relief in the vicinity of his ribcage as the Sorting Hat made its final decision, though this bit it chose to announce out loud. Brains and bravery can only be _GRYFFINDOR!_  
  
When Remus emerged from under the hat, he hurried over to the Gryffindor table. James waved. Over here! He scooted over to make a space and Remus happily sat next to him. Good show, mate! James said, giving Remus a congratulatory clap on the shoulder. Peter and Sirius looked almost apologetic as they offered their own welcomes to Gryffindor.  
  
When the Sorting ended, Dumbledore stood to make a his speech before the start-of-the-term feast as he had done the previous year when he had been appointed Headmaster. Another year has begun, he said, and with it, we have garnered a group of new faces. I do hope the returning students will be as gracious in welcoming the newcomers as they are about to welcome this marvelous feast. He gestured ceremoniously. Tuck in!  
  
At once, a dazzling array of food materialised on the surfaces of the golden plates that had been set along each of the house tables.  
  
Sirius commented approvingly and snatched up a turkey drumstick which he wasted no time in sinking his teeth into. James laughed around a more reasonably-sized mouthful of peas. Sirius, has anyone ever told you that you eat like a dog?  
  
Sirius elbowed James roughly, nearly making him lose his peas, but Peter nodded in agreement as he cut up a steak. More like a rabid wolf.  
  
_CLANG!_  
  
The three looked over at Remus, who'd suddenly dropped his fork onto his plate and was cradling his right hand in his left. S-sorry . . . he said, looking at his fork as if it had burned him.   
  
What happened? James asked, puzzled. Remus just shook his head, as baffled as they were. After a moment, the other three resumed munching on their dinners and talking. Remus, however, was studying the edge of his plate. Oh . . . he said vaguely, jumping up from his seat and running over to the staff table.   
  
The three watched, curious as Remus approached Headmaster Dumbledore and appeared to be apologising for interrupting his conversation with Professor McGonagall. He then leaned in and whispered something in Dumbledore's ear. Dumbledore nodded and snapped his fingers, conjuring a plate, soup bowl and set of cutlery, which Remus took with a quick nod of thanks. He carried them back to the table and set the gold plate down on top of the one that was already there, then nudged the eating utensils and the first soup bowl toward the centre of the table with his new soup bowl and set the rest of his dinnerware up. Food immediately appeared on his new plate.  
  
James, Peter and Sirius watched all of this with immense curiosity. Any particular reason why you can't eat off that stuff? James queried, gesturing toward the set that had been pushed away. They look exactly the same.  
  
Those are only gold-plated, Remus explained, then tapped the edge of his new plate. These are solid gold.  
  
Sirius snorted, And I thought _my_ family had expensive tastes.  
  
Oh no, that's not it, Remus said, shaking his head, I can't eat with anything silver. There's silver under the gold plating. He pointed to the edge of his first plate where some of the gold had been chipped away, revealing the shiny grey metal underneath.   
  
Can't eat with-? James started, but Remus was swift to explain. I'm allergic to it, he said quickly, cutting James off. _Very_ allergic. Lead's harmful to some Muggles isn't it? Even if it's painted over. Why shouldn't silver be harmful to me? He then took a huge bite of shepherd's pie and the subject was dropped.  
  
By the by, on the way up did anyone notice the big freaking willow tree? Sirius asked of the others, helping himself to some spare ribs.  
  
James nodded. Strange that they'd plant something that dangerous right on the grounds.  
  
Peter frowned. What're you talking about? Why would a tree be dangerous?  
  
Did you see this thing? Sirius burst out incredulously. When Peter shook his head, Sirius rolled his eyes. It's not _just a tree'_. This tree is, I dunno, _mad_ or something. It's got branches going like _this_, he said, waving his arms wildly round his head, every which way!  
  
Half of the people at the table looked up at Sirius doing his impression of the violent new addition to the grounds. When he noticed all the unexpected attention he'd garnered, he slowly lowered his arms only to touch his chin suavely with the thumb and forefinger of his left hand and smile at all the girls at the table. A few of them exchanged a giggle and went back to eating.   
  
Remus had not said a word since the topic had been brought up, but stared at Sirius's antics with a troubled glint in his eyes. He knew he should have laughed to see this fellow student who obviously had a excellent rapport amongst his classmates - the girls seemed to be especially taken with the handsome and charming Gryffindor - acting out so ridiculously, but somehow, he could not bring himself to laugh. Remus knew why that tree had been planted. He was probably the only student in the school who did, and now the mere mentioning of it was enough to send dreadful chills along his bones. Sirius, however, had not noticed Remus's troubled state and resumed the somewhat barbaric consumption of his food.  
  
The meal continued fairly uneventfully for the next few minutes until, all of sudden, James spotted something across the room that made his features light up in a positively devilish way. Sirius . . . he said in a gleeful hiss, nudging his friend's shoulder.  
  
Sirius acknowledged his friend through a mouth full of pork. James pointed across the room at the next table over and Sirius swallowed, breaking out into a wicked grin. he said in a mischievous whisper, he looks like he hasn't washed his hair _or_ his face all summer! Peter grinned conspiratorially as well.  
  
Remus looked in the direction that James had been pointing. He then saw that they could mean no other than a curious-looking student who was sat at the table next to theirs soberly munching on a steak. While the rest of the students were conversing animatedly round him, he was hunched over his plate and eating in silence. Even without the dark colour of his robes and the black of his hair (which, Remus had to agree, was very greasy), he looked so very alone and dismal that the candlelight appeared to touch everyone at the table but him. His pale skin did little to counter his shadowed appearance, though it was very light and greasy enough that Remus thought it should have shone in the candlelight. He had an angular face, which showcased a sprinkling of acne and a hooked nose that gave him an almost vulturine appearance, Remus thought.  
  
Peter was quick to explain. That's Severus Snape.  
  
Better known as Snivellus, Sirius added lightly, grinning. Oh and look at that, James. He's got _peas_.  
  
Cottoning on immediately, James covertly drew his wand and put his knife into the same hand to hide it. Keeping his actions as covert as possible, he aimed the wand at Snape and whispered, __  
  
All at once, a pea that Snape had been carefully balancing on his fork flew off the prongs and dissappeared up the boy's left nostril. It must have gone up very fast because Snape's head jerked back violently and he fell backwards off of his seat.  
  
James and Sirius high-fived, or indeed _low_-fived each other under the table and Peter flashed them a thumbs-up. Gets him every time, James sang, pocketing his wand. Learned that little gem flipping through our Charms textbook last year, he explained to Remus, grinning proudly. I'll teach it to you sometime if you want. I don't think you'll learn something like that in Twideon's class, after all.  
  
Laughing a bit, Remus nodded. All right. He had to admit, the concept of shooting a pea up someone's nose was pretty funny, even if it probably wasn't very funny to the owner of that nose. When he looked back over the other table, he was only half surprised to find that no one had actually gotten up to help Snape. In fact, they seemed not to notice his plight at all. When Snape got to his feet, he was plugging his right nostril with a thumb and flinging his head forward, trying to dislodge the pea and glaring for all he was worth directly at James and Sirius.  
  
Remus blinked when Sirius and James smiled angelically and both made rude gestures from across the table, nearly perfect in their synchronisation as if they'd done it many times before. How'd he know it was you? Remus asked.  
  
Because it usually is, Peter said simply. They've been at it since last year.  
  
James nodded. It's become something of a sport, now.   
  
More like a vendetta, Peter intoned, then shrugged. But I admit, that stunt with the itching spell last year was hilarious.  
  
As the three shared a snicker at the memory of whatever had happened, Remus privately thought that he'd rather not know the extent of what they got up to. He decided he'd like not to be involved in it, whatever it was, and only if Snape, or any other student, lashed out at him directly would he counter the attack. He wasn't the type to go taking the mickey out of the people because he was a potential oddball himself and his situation was precarious, even if he was the only one who knew it.  
  
So, d'you think dear Miss Lily Evans will go out with me this year? James asked of Sirius who rolled his eyes. When Remus looked questioningly at Peter he cocked his head toward the end of the table where a group of fourth-year girls was sat. Red hair, green eyes, he said before returning his attentions to his meal. Even as Remus was leaning forward to get a better look, James stood from his seat and yelled loudly down the table, ALL RIGHT, EVANS?  
  
A girl with long, auburn hair and strikingly bright green eyes looked up from her plate, raised her eyebrows along with two fingers at James before she resumed talking with her friends. Sirius sniggered, James sulkily kicked him under the table, Peter didn't look up from the turkey leg he was working away at and Remus continued to look across the table at the girl named Lily Evans. She was very pretty in a feisty, tomboyish way, he thought, and there was something almost stylish in the way she had so coolly responded to James's intrusion upon her conversation. When she looked to her left, presumably to make sure James wasn't trying to get her attention again, her eyes met Remus's own. He quickly looked away.   
  
As the academic year commenced, James, Sirius and Peter were friendly enough to Remus, though they were a little leery of him. The more time they spent with him, the more they realised that Peter had been right in his initial assessment. While his company was generally pleasant if not rather uneventful, Remus did tend to snap at them at unexpected places in conversations and he struck the other three as a bit moody at times. He also spent a great deal of time in the library poring over his homework assignments with far more devotion than was necessary in James's and Sirius's opinions. On the rare occasion that he didn't study during his free time, he generally kept to himself, socialising only when he was approached. Stranger still, barely a week after the term had begun, Madam Pomfrey came to the Gryffindor table at breakfast and informed Remus that she would meet him at the castle entrance that night.  
  
What was that all about? James asked after she'd left.  
  
My gran's ill, Remus answered, not looking up from his grits, My parents want me home for a couple nights.  
  
So what's that got to do with Madam Pomfrey? Sirius asked.  
  
She's going to escort me, Remus explained, more intent than ever on finishing his breakfast. To the train station, I mean.  
  
But why her? Peter pressed, looking up from his oatmeal. Shouldn't the head of the House be in charge of something like that?  
  
Remus just shrugged and got up from the table muttering something about packing. However, when the other three returned to the dormitory that night after he'd gone, they found all of his things by his bed, right as he'd left them.  
  
When he returned two days later, Remus looked, to say the least, worse for the wear.   
  
It was a few hours into Sunday afternoon and James was about to win his fourth game in a row of Exploding Snap against fellow fourth-years Blaire Ingle and Derry O'Connor. Several students in other years were strewn about the room working at tables or sitting in chairs and talking. Sirius was lounging in a handsome heap of limbs, draped languidly over the armrests of his favourite overstuffed chair. He was wearing a pair of loose-fitting slacks and a tight white tee-shirt that he'd cut the sleeves off of and every once in a while, a girl would look up from her book, eying him hopefully. Meanwhile, Peter was studying feverishly behind a stack of textbooks across the room.  
  
Sirius saw him first. The Portrait Hole opened and in stumbled Remus, looking positively haggard. He waved sleepily when James and Peter said and Sirius got up to give him a sheet of parchment. He met him at the staircase to the dormitories.  
  
Lucky you only missed Friday, he commented, holding out the bit of parchment. We wrote all your assignments down for y- Are you limping?  
  
Thanks . . . Remus muttered, ignoring the question and accepting the parchment with a slightly shaking hand. He tried to pocket it, though he missed three times before his finally got it in. Sirius watched all of this with mounting concern, taking in the dark circles under Remus's eyes, which he seemed to be having difficulty keeping open, his trembling hand, and the generally exhausted state he seemed to be in. Are you all right? You look right knackered.  
  
Remus didn't look at Sirius, but gestured vaguely up the stairs toward the dormitories. I was up all night . . . Need sleep . . . he mumbled and started up the staircase. He hadn't gone two steps when the leg he seemed to be favouring shuddered violently and Sirius found himself catching an armful of limp, barely conscious Remus Lupin.  
  
Er, Peter? A little help? Sirius called as quietly as he could across the room to his friend, trying not to draw too much attention to himself. A few of the students who were working at tables had looked up from their books, but a sound glare from Sirius got their attentions back to where they belonged. His first thought had been to call for James, but he knew James could be in the middle of an earthquake and not notice while he was playing Exploding Snap.   
  
Upon hearing his friend call for help, Peter quickly put down his quill and hurried across the room. When he reached Sirius, he was met with a peculiar sight; Remus slumped backwards against Sirius on the first step up to the dormitories and Sirius holding Remus awkwardly under the arms. Remus appeared to be in a state of general collapse, his head resting against Sirius's chest and he was staring up at Sirius with half-lidded ochre eyes.  
  
Stop gawping and give us a hand here! Sirius snapped heatedly at Peter who responded immediately, taking one of Remus's arms and slinging it about his shoulders. Sirius did the same with Remus's other arm, swearing quietly as the woollen sleeve of the dark blue jumper Remus was wearing irritated his bare shoulder.  
  
They started up the stairs and it was very awkward balancing Remus between two boys as one of them was quite a bit shorter than the other. The lack of coordination between Sirius's and Peter's footsteps on the stairs made it even more frustrating. Walk, dammit, Sirius hissed at Remus. We're not doing all the work for you! Remus obediently lifted his foot onto the next step and between the efforts of all three of them, they managed get him upstairs. Once they were on the landing, Remus was able to make it to his bed on his own, keeping his hand on the wall for support. Once he'd reached his bed, he climbed into it without changing his clothes. He didn't even take off his shoes. The two on the landing, no small bit puzzled, turned to go downstairs.  
  
That was weird, Sirius muttered.   
  
Tell me about it, Peter agreed. What kind of person goes to visit his grandmother and comes back looking like something a cat coughed up?  
  
Not only that, Sirius added. What kind of person wears a long-sleeved wool jumper in this weather?  
  
The next morning, Sirius woke up a bit earlier than his friends and was one of the first to   
sit down at the breakfast table in the Great Hall. He'd barely begun scooping eggs into his mouth when he heard a familiar voice from behind.  
  
Mind if I sit here?  
  
He looked over his shoulder and saw Remus looking well-rested and generally better after having had close to twenty hours of sleep. He still looked a little worn around the edges, but it didn't look like anything a good meal wouldn't fix. Sirius nodded. Go ahead.  
  
Remus said, lifting his robes from beneath him so that he wouldn't end up on top of them as he sat. He began helping himself to some bacon and sausage. And thanks for your help last night, he added quietly, looking up at Sirius with an earnest flicker in his eyes.   
  
Sirius swallowed his eggs a little more heavily than was necessary. Peter was right. Remus's eyes were very strange, but it was not their shape or colour that was so disconcerting, Sirius realised. There was a certain sincerity in their depths that was softly ominous like distant thunder, but keen and sharp like a cry for help. It was very eerie, as if the gaze itself were licking at something in the pit of Sirius's stomach, triggering a strange, tickling uneasiness within him. He suppressed a shudder. No problem, he said as casually as he could and quickly shovelled more eggs into his mouth.  
  
At that moment, James and Peter arrived and sat on either side of the two at the table, James next to Sirius and Peter next to Remus. Morning, gents! James positively chirped.  
  
Sirius snorted. Being that chipper on a Monday morning ought to be illegal.  
  
Peter said through a yawn. He inquired politely, Feeling any better, Remus?  
  
Remus smiled and nodded, appreciative of his friend's concern. I am, thanks.  
  
Oh, they told me you were really ill, James said, his voice still perky, but more apologetic. Sorry. I would've said something last night if I'd known, but you know . . . He fiddled with his sausages guiltily.  
  
Caught up in the heat of competition? Remus grinned good-humouredly. It's all right. Sirius and Peter took care of it.  
  
James brightened, smiling widely and practically singing, Well, glad to hear you're feeling better, mate! Sirius rolled his eyes. All right, why are you so obscenely bouncy today?  
  
You didn't see the notice on the board, then. Quidditch try-outs are next Friday, James explained cheerfully, pouring pumpkin juice into his glass with a little more flair than was necessary.  
  
Quidditch try-outs on a Friday? Sirius queried incredulously, That's pretty stupid, waiting till you're all knackered from a week of slave labour to see how good you are.  
  
I know, James lamented, stabbing at his cereal with a spoon. And I can't practice for it either ever since that arsebasket Prensely booked the pitch for Hufflepuff all this week and Slytherin has it all of next week.  
  
I know a way you could practice, Remus offered quietly.  
  
James dropped his fork onto his plate with a clatter. His hazel eyes had grown almost comically large and eager. Remus nodded. Meet me outside by the Quidditch pitch on Saturday morning and I'll show you. Wear clothes you don't mind getting dirty.  
  
Saturday morning followed a rainy Friday night and the three friends awoke to find Remus already up and gone from his bed. They dressed quickly and made their way outside, assuming they were to forego breakfast.  
  
It was still fairly early and a feeble mist hung low in the air, dampening the grounds. After walking round to the rear of the castle in the direction of the Quidditch Pitch, they found their target. Remus was gambolling about on the grass with a strange black and white ball that neither James, nor Sirius nor Peter had ever seen before.   
  
he explained brightly, swiping his hair out of his eyes with the back of a hand and unwittingly leaving a great smear of dirt over his left eyebrow. Judging from the grass stains on his trousers and the dirt on his hands and sneakers, he'd slid and fallen several times already. It's a Muggle sport.  
  
The others were skeptical of this with its one ball and lack of brooms, but once Remus explained how it was done and they saw how simple it was, they decided to give it a go. The lack of bludgers was an added bonus. James figured it might help hone his reflexes and get him back into the mindset of competition, if nothing else. He and Sirius formed their own team, leaving Remus with Peter and they began the game.   
  
Even though they were new at this sport, the other three found that they were each quite good at it. James had excellent reflexes and a keen eye and Sirius's long, strong legs carried him swiftly over the damp grass. Peter was neither agile nor fast, but his shorter legs ended up being a great advantage to him as they were ideal for making quick turns. He would have the ball, Sirius would be catching up to him and just as it looked as though he was about to sneak up beside Peter and steal the ball, Peter would dart to the other side and take off in the opposite direction in the blink of an eye. Once, Sirius tried to follow through on one of these sharp turns. He tripped over his own ankle and plunged face-down onto the grass.   
  
They played until lunchtime, each surprising the other with his own newfound tricks of the trade. James and Sirius worked spectacularly together. Previous years of classes had given them plenty of practice at communicating with each other using simple noises and gestures from across a room, which came in quite handy. Remus and Peter did not have this advantage, but Peter had surprisingly good aim and his sturdy legs made for some impressive kicks. Remus was, on the whole, the most average player of the lot, being faster than Peter but not nearly as fast as Sirius or James. He could get the ball and keep it very well, but he had terrible aim and often ended up passing to the other two when he meant to pass to Peter. However, what amazed Sirius and James the most was that while Remus was losing abysmally and getting very dirty for the many times he'd tripped over his shoelaces, he was still laughing and smiling like he was having the time of his life.   
  
By the time they're reentered the castle dirty, sweaty and, in Peter's case, positively gasping for breath, Remus had become an official member of their little circle. The other three, all of them purebloods, were very interested in the softspoken, spindly-limbed half-Muggle who knew about football and electric torches and television. They had also seen a new side of him when they were playing football. As they were heading back to the Tower to get cleaned up, Remus was carrying the muddy ball in his arms, getting his shirt rather dirty, but positively beaming beneath all the dirt that had gotten smeared all over his face.   
  
The other three secretly thought that this was the first time since they met him that they had seen Remus looking genuinely happy. While his smiles were frequent and his manner was bright, secrets swam in those curiously coloured eyes which betrayed a deeper sadness. Ever the canny one, Sirius picked up on it immediately and decided that there was more to Remus J. Lupin than what met the eye.  
  
The next morning, Remus woke up earlier than usual. He'd been having a strange dream, in which he was lying on his back and staring up at the full moon . . . Only to realise it was no moon, but a pale, silver-blue eye set into the face of a great black dog which he'd mistaken for the starless night sky. Nonetheless, it was the night of the full moon, and the dog was standing over him, staring intently at him as he lay, wounded and bleeding upon the ground. The dog lowered its head to lick at Remus's face and neck which had been slashed and clawed. The rough, warm tongue did not hurt, but almost seemed to make the wounds disappear, as if they'd never been incurred at all . . .  
  
Remus shivered a bit, recalling the dream vividly as he retrieved his robes and a fresh change of clothes to wear underneath them. As he put his trunk away, he saw Sirius emerging from his bed on the other side of the room, clad in the most unholy shade of chartreuse the human eye had ever beheld. He yawned enormously, dropping to his knees like a bag of wet cement beside his bed and began rummaging noisily through his trunk. Remus smiled. Sirius was one of those people who simply could not greet the day quietly. If he wasn't dragging his feet on the floor or thumping down the steps, he made up for it with all sorts of grunts and growls and other such graceless morning noises.  
  
After he'd finished getting his robes and clothes together, he kicked his trunk unceremoniously under the bed and stood, noticing Remus was watching him with rapt interest.   
  
  
  
Remus nodded purely for the sake of keeping his mouth closed lest he burst out laughing. Coming away from sleep does odd things to people's voices and Sirius was a prime example of that. His tongue always seemed to wake up about ten minutes after the rest of him. Remus smiled to himself. Amusing, that.  
  
As he watched Sirius and his maddeningly chartreuse pyjamas disappear downstairs to shower, Remus noted that, if nothing else, Sirius did somehow elude bed-hair. How he managed it, Remus would never know but for some reason, Sirius's hair almost always left his pillows in almost the same handsome state as when it was laid upon them.   
  
Gathering his robes and a change of clothes, Remus followed Sirius to the showers.   
  
They had both risen to greet the day early enough that they were first to use the showers. Remus usually made certain he woke early enough so that he could shower alone. His body was something he felt obligated to spare others the sight of. This morning, however, it was just Sirius with him and if he took a few preventative measures, there was a good chance that Sirius would not notice. Remus retreated to a corner of the tiled room to get out of his nightclothes, but Sirius just pulled off his pyjamas and threw them in a messy heap on the sink beside his robes, then strode without any hesitation at all to the sideboard on the other side of the room. Remus looked on enviously, admiring not only the handsome, muscular contours of Sirius's back and legs, but also the confidence in his stride.   
  
Sirius retrieved a towel and a bar of soap from the sideboard. En route to a stall, he saw that Remus was staring at him, frozen in the middle of unbuttoning his blue tartan pyjamas.   
  
What's the matter with you? Sirius barked, looking at him strangely. You never seen a lad starkers or something?  
  
Remus had the decency to avert his eyes. Hadn't his mother had always told him it wasn't polite to stare? Yet, Sirius had a point; Remus had not, as far as he could recall, ever seen another boy naked. He'd never seen a girl naked either. He was an only child, so he'd never been required to help bathe a sibling or change their napkins. Also, due to all the moving across the country he had done, he'd never really been able to make any close friends, so there had been no skinnydipping or games of or anything else that would have primed him for the sight of Sirius standing before him now. Warmth rose in his face and he shook his head slowly.  
  
Sirius seemed genuinely surprised. he said, then he grinned slyly and set his towel and soap down. He turned to face Remus, threw his head to the side so that his hair fell softly about his jawline and rested his fists on his hips, which he tilted at a showy angle. Well, take a good look.   
  
Against his better judgement, Remus did as he was told and slowly looked up at the boy before him. The Blacks must have had quite a few gems in their gene pool, he thought, looking over Sirius's long legs, rounded shoulders and finely angled hips. Puberty had given him a strong jaw and had tastefully distributed faint, black hairs along his limbs and lower torso. He smiled very slightly, his grey-blue eyes glittering quietly. Like what you see?  
  
Remus could not answer. Sirius grinned and said simply, Well, you won't be seeing anything better. He then picked up his towel and soap and dissappeared into a stall. When Remus heard him turn the faucet on, he fetched a towel and bar of soap for himself, then hastily finished removing his pyjamas, feeling very self-concious. He wrapped his towel round his middle and hurried into the next stall over. Once he'd shut the door behind him and locked it, he pulled the towel from his hips and hung it up on the peg. As he placed the soap into the little tray nailed onto the door, he could hear Sirius alternatively muttering and humming to himself as he washed. He could picture Sirius pushing pale fingers through deep black hair, which was even blacker and shinier when it was wet. In the back of his mind an image surfaced of those same pale fingers moving, dreamlike, in the shadows of a deserted classroom . . .  
  
Remus hastily started the water and washed, trying not to look at his own skin.  
  
Their first lesson the following Monday was Potions, which they were to take alongside Slytherin.  
  
I'll never understand why we have to have class with these slimy gits, James was saying as he set his cauldron on his worktable. He made a vague gesture toward the other side of the room where the Slytherins were sat. Oh, but Jimbo, some of our best and cleverest Snivellus-pranking has taken place here, Sirius reminded him, drumming his fingers lightly against the rim of his cauldron. James cuffed him playfully behind the ear. Black, if you call me that too many more times, you're gonna have a black eye.  
  
Why do you two hate Snape so much? Remus queried, glancing over at the Slytherins' half of the room, where the young man in question was meticulously setting up his cauldron, mortar and pestle and textbook. James turned in his chair to answer as Remus and Peter had taken seats next to each other in the row behind himself and Sirius. You don't know him yet, but once you do, you'll see.  
  
Remus blinked. You can't just tell me?  
  
James snorted. Why we hate him? Why not? No one likes him, so why should we? I mean, look at him. He's just . . . James turned to Sirius, Hey, Sirius, how did I describe Snivvie-kins this morning? I said something rather good, I think.  
  
A manky, moth-eaten excuse for a greasy, shit-eating git, Sirius recited smoothly, smirking approvingly. Remus wanted to say something, but remembered his resolution not to get involved, so he kept his mouth shut. A minute or so later, the Potions Master, Professor Eldwight, arrived. She was a short, stout woman with long, wavy black hair that dragged lightly on the floor as she walked to the front of the classroom and began the lesson. She announced that they were to make the Amphimorgous Potion which could turn toads into frogs and was used to remove warts from human skin.  
  
It was during this lesson that Remus came to realise that he was, to say the least, not much of a Potions brewer. While he was an adept learner, had a firm grasp on the concepts and was quite brilliant with a wand, this class required nothing but sheer concentration and precision. He had trouble focussing on such mundane matters as grinding dried ginger root to a perfectly smooth consistency, measuring nothing more or less than the exact amount of hedgehog spines or stirring his concoctions at a fixed speed. Unfortunately, Peter had the same problem. Neither of them could pay attention to what they were doing long enough to brew the Potion properly.   
  
Halfway into the lesson, Peter's creation was leaking out of a hole it had burned through his cauldron (and thus burning further holes in the worktable and floor) and Remus was all but cowering in his chair, convinced that his cauldron (which was making ominous crackling noises and belching large clouds of smoke) was going to explode.   
  
Professor Eldwight came to the rescue, repairing Peter's cauldron and snuffing Remus's with two flicks of her wand. After a quick assessment, she deemed that their potions were not beyond repair and they could still make them correctly, but she recommended the two not sit together any more because two wandering minds are not bound to reach the finish line. She asked James to work with Peter and Sirius with Remus.  
  
All right, let's see what he have here, then, Sirius said, either to himself or Remus as he slid into Peter's seat. Much to Remus's relief, Sirius seemed to have either forgotten the incident in the showers or he paid it no mind. This was a good thing because Remus was going to need all the help he could get with his potion. Sirius and James were both excellent in this subject as could be seen from their own potions which had been completed successfully and in record time. Remus also had a feeling that Sirius rather liked the opportunity to share his smarts with fellow students, and also to showcase them. He peered into Remus's cauldron and frowned. The stuff inside was no longer smoking, but had turned a vile shade of . . .  
  
Sirius observed, tsk-tsking. Well, that's probably because your ginger root wasn't ground up right or you didn't put in enough. He looked expectantly at Remus and Remus's heart sank. Recollection struck him rather nastily and he slowly reached for his mortar and pestle which held a fair amount of ground ginger root. I forgot to put in the ginger, he said sheepishly, It's all still in here. He recalled that he'd immediately began chopping his sage leaves after he'd finished grinding the ginger root as all of the ingredients were supposed to be prepared before putting actually putting any of them into the cauldron. When he'd finished getting them all ground, chopped, sliced and peeled, he must have bumped his mortar and pestle to the side and completely forgotten about it.   
  
Sirius raised his eyebrows and grinned. Well, there it is. He held out a hand for the mortar and pestle. Give it here and let me have a look before you put it in. Remus handed the mortar and pestle over and Sirius appraised his work on the ginger roots. Hmm, this looks all right, but I'll give a bit more for good measure, Sirius said, and Remus looked on in rapt silence, watching his pale, smooth hands gripping the two pieces of marble firmly and grinding them together with an almost sensual rhythm. When he was satisfied, Sirius deposited the ginger into the cauldron.   
  
All right, next you've got to stir that in. He handed Remus a wooden spoon, but held up a hand in warning. Now you've got to be really careful with this part. If you stir it too fast, it'll heat up. That's probably why it started smoking last time. Here, I'll show you a trick . . . He fished a piece of chalk out of his robes and made a small mark on the rim of the cauldron, then pocketed the chalk again. All right, I'll count off by threes for you. When I say , your spoon should pass this mark. That way, you'll know you're pacing yourself right. You ready?  
  
Remus nodded and dipped the spoon into his cauldron.  
  
All right . . . go, Sirius said and Remus began stirring slowly. One - two - three. One - two - three. One - slow - down. One - that's - good. One - two - three . . . Sirius counted the stirs off on his fingers as he continued to count aloud for Remus. As he stirred, Remus saw that his potion was slowly starting to turn the correct mustard yellow colour and he looked over at Sirius who nodded approvingly. After Remus had stirred the potion eight times according to the eight fingers Sirius was holding up, the potion was the colour it was supposed to be and Remus's confidence was restored.  
  
All right, I think you can pick up where you originally left off now, Sirius said, leaning back in his chair. I'll let you finish it off on your own, but I'll keep an eye on you, make sure you don't arse it up, all right?  
  
Remus grinned and nodded. He then added the hedgehog spines and essence of sage, stirring them in with the utmost care, watching Sirius's chalk mark and counting off by tapping his toe under the table. Lastly, he added three drops of bloodyberry juice and the potion was complete.   
  
Very good, Professor Eldwight said of both Remus's and Peter's assignments. She nodded to James and Sirius. Ten points to each of you for helping your classmates. Then, she turned to the class, saying, I'd like each of you to place a flask of your potions on my desk so that I may mark them, and please don't forget to put your names on your flasks. After you have done this, you are dismissed.   
  
As they were packing their books and things into their bags, Remus turned to Sirius, thanking him very much for his help. Sirius shrugged. No problem. Besides, your cauldron might have blown up and then where would we be? He dropped a quick wink and a grin and they hurried to catch up with James and Peter.   
  
After lunch, the Gryffindors headed upstairs for their next class, Charms. The lesson was enjoyable enough even if their teacher, Professor Twideon, was very strict. She was a stern, but comely woman not a day over twenty-five with shoulder-length honey-blonde hair and wire-rimmed spectacles. Her lesson for the day consisted of two simple but potentially fun charms. The aim of the first was to change the basic colour of an object and the second was a silencing charm (Very useful for those annoying, squeaky hinges when you don't have any grease).   
  
At the end of the lesson, Peter, James, Sirius and Remus were making their way back to Gryffindor Tower when Sirius stopped them for a moment. He'd spied Snape across the hall and was taking aim with his wand. _Pigmentia Alterus.  
  
_There a small burst of light, and a yelp of surprise. Sirius turned and quickly hurried his friends into the next corridor over, stopping only when they were all safely hidden to peak round the corner and admire his handiwork.  
  
Positively fuming, Snape and his filthy, fluorescent pink hair stormed off.  
  
Remus simply could not understand how James and Sirius did it. They hardly put any time or effort into their studies, yet they seemed to do so well in class, he thought bitterly as he worked slavishly behind a stack of textbooks. The stack was just short enough that if he sat up a bit, he would just be able to see and James and Sirius playing wizard chess on the other side of the room and attracting quite an audience while they were at it.   
  
It was well past bed-time by the time Remus had finished all but one of his assignments and everyone had gone up to bed except himself and James, who was sat in an armchair, hurriedly reading his Charms textbook. Reading chapter one of _Intermediate Charmery_ was Remus's last assignment and, stifling a yawn, he reached into his satchel for the book. It was not there.  
  
Alarmed, he began rummaging frantically through his bag for the book when recollection reached him. During Charms class, he and Peter had sat together and he'd put his book under his chair in favour if sharing with Peter to make more room on the desk. He must have forgotten about it and left it there when the class was dismissed.  
  
What's up, mate?  
  
Remus looked up. James seemed to have noticed he was distressed over something and was looking over his book at Remus with inquisitive hazel eyes.  
  
I left my book in the Charms classroom, Remus explained.   
  
James made a face. Not good. I'd let you use mine, but I'm kind of using it right now.   
  
Remus nodded. Right. And I don't want anyone mad at me for waking them up to ask them, he added gloomily.  
  
James thought for a moment, then rose from his chair. Well, maybe I can help you . . . he said cryptically, tiptoeing up into the dormitories and reappearing a moment later with what appeared to be a silvery bedsheet gathered up in his arms.   
  
What is that? Remus queried, pointing at the bedsheet-looking thing. James grinned. Swear not to tell anyone and I'll show you how it works.   
  
Remus grinned back, delighted that he was being let in on a big secret and nodded, drawing an over his heart with his finger.  
  
James said proudly, shaking out the cloth, is the secret of out success. He whipped the sheet over his shoulders and was suddenly nothing but a floating head.   
  
Remus blinked, a bit startled by the sudden dissappearance of his friend's body. An invisibility cloak?  
  
James pulled it off himself, bundled it up and handed it to Remus. If you get caught with this, he said, smiling grimly, I'll see to it you're royally arse-kicked.  
  
Smiling gratefully, Remus accepted the cloak and headed for the Portrait Hole. He then threw the cloak over himself and looked back to James, who flashed him a thumbs-up before opening the Portrait and slipping stealthfully out.   
  
Light from the gibbous moon spilled over the floor in elegant trains through the windows along the hallway. Remus felt a strange tingle at his lack of a shadow when he padded over one of these lengths of light. He could feel the invisible hem of the cloak dancing round his ankles as he made his way down the hall.  
  
He crept quietly into the Charms classroom and saw at once that his textbook was lying beneath his desk. He fetched it quickly and quit the classroom, intent on getting back to Gryffindor Tower as soon as possible.  
  
Unfortunately, Remus's return to the dormitory did not go as planned. As he was sprinting up one of the staircases, it shuddered beneath him, causing him to lose his footing and fall. By the time he'd cleared his head enough to discern what happened, he realised that the staircase had swung out to the left and attached itself to a different landing.  
  
Remus swore quietly and picked himself up off the steps, making haste for the landing before the staircase decided it fancied another switch. As he looked round him, he felt panic seize his heart. He had never been down this corridor before. If he had, he certainly did not recognise it in the throes of darkness. The moon did little to penetrate the blackness on this side of the castle, only chancing an occasional brave strain of pearlescent light. Remus silently berated himself for leaving his wand in the dormitory. Getting caught by a teacher because he'd risked using the _lumos_ charm was better than stumbling round in the dark in an unfamiliar place. He pulled the cloak more tightly about him.  
  
All of a sudden, a glint of light caught his eye and he turned to the side. To his left was a door, which was slightly ajar. He pushed it the rest of the way open, wincing when it uttered a faint creak, and slipped inside.  
  
He stood at the front of what appeared to be a classroom that had not been used in years. The great, arching windows yielded to the flood of moonlight which illuminated the grey film of dust that covered the desktops, chairs and floorboards. Then at once, Remus saw the source of the glint he'd seen.   
  
A great mirror stood at the back of the classroom, gleaming and beckoning in the moonlight. Panic diluted by curiosity, Remus padded over to the mirror for a closer look. There were words carved into the frame which he had to stand on tiptoe to read. They were in a different language and he did not understand. He noticed a chink of glass was missing from the topmost part of the mirror and he glanced down at the floor. Sure enough, at his feet lay the triangular shard. He carefully picked up the piece and lifted it to the top of the mirror to wedge it in where it belonged. However, he stopped when the reflection of the shard in the mirror caught his eye.   
  
His forearm had left the sanctuary of the cloak and looked as though it were floating in the air, the hand attached to it holding a sharp piece of glass that shone in the moonlight. As if this weren't strange enough, the shard was reflecting _ERISED_, the first word carved into the frame. In the reflection of the shard in the mirror the word was shown in reverse and Remus saw that was simply spelled backward. What could that mean? He wondered as he pushed the piece back into its place. Had it been intentional? He felt something inside him tell him that it had been and he withdrew his arm into the cloak.  
  
Remus looked at the glassy surface of the mirror, seeing only the reflection of the room behind him and instinctively pulled off the invisibility cloak. As he dropped the shimmering fabric to the floor, what he saw made him jump back in surprise. He looked sharply over his shoulder, expecting to find someone there. There was no one. But he could have sworn he'd seen . . . Trepidation riddling his breathing with shudders, he turned back to the glass.  
  
In the mirror, he saw the softly glinting eyes and lanky fourteen-year-old frame he knew to be his own. Behind him, he saw the black of the shadows thrust loosely round the room, solid and stark against the pale grey wash of moonlight and the black of darkness that had gathered in the corners. Black of an entirely different kind was also behind him, touching his shoulder with a smooth, bright hand and smiling at him with obvious affection before touching his lips to Remus's temple. The hand then moved to his neck, where it slid down slowly, deftly, like a wave over sand. Remus's heart leapt at the sight, then clenched painfully and he tore his gaze away as that hand moved to unbutton his shirt.   
  
You c-can't be serious . . . he murmured, either at himself, or at the mirror. Even he did not quite know which it had been. Keeping his eyes on the moon-brindled floorboards, Remus threw on the invisibility cloak and darted out of the room.


	2. Part Two: HALF

**Starcross'd: part 2 (two): HALF  
  
By:** Fala Reflects The Madness Within Tzipori  
  
**Written:** Summer, 2004  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Genre:** Romance, Drama, Angst, Humour  
**Pairing(s):** Sirius/Remus, James/Lily  
**Warnings:** slash, strife, swearing, suggestive stuff, Scottish humour, Sirius and James being egregiously heterosexual, and other such things that begin with an   
**Plot:** The slashmobile has been revved up and you-know-who is taking a ride (And I don't mean Voldemort, nerks :P). Secrets are out. Emotions are out. Remus is out.  
**Spoilers:** None, I do not think . . .  
**Dedications/Thanks:** HUGE thanks to Carlea, über-talented talented writer and grammar-Nazi extraordinaire for beta-ing all ninety seven pages of this shite. Thanks so much, love. You so totally rool.  
**Disclaimers:** The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'll return them before their warranty's spent.  
**Other comments/schtuff:** n/a  
  
Mr. Lupin, would you _kindly pay attention_.  
  
Remus started in his seat when Professor Twideon rapped on the front of his desk with a heavy book. In a blink of realisation, he saw that he'd finally succeeded in levitating the tea cup he'd been given, but also his entire desk beneath it.  
  
Feeling very sheepish as the class tittered, he gave his wand a short flick downward and lowered his desk the few inches to the floor, but in doing so, completely forgot about the hovering tea cup which simply fell out of the air and shattered when it hit the floorboards.   
  
The class erupted in snickers. Fighting the colour that was rising in his face, Remus muttered an apology to Professor Twideon who simply swept the pieces of the cup into the bin with a flick of her wand.  
  
Mr. Lupin, I have very little tolerance for those who see fit to trot off to La La Land in my class, Professor Twideon said reprovingly. However, seeing as you are the only one who actually managed to levitate anything at all today -- she cast a stern gaze round the room and the rows of desks topped with very stationary tea cups -- I will not take any points away for breaking your cup. Now then, I want everyone to write me a short essay on the importance of wrist control in performing this and other such charms. Half a roll of parchment, on my desk tomorrow. You are dismissed.  
  
As the students shuffled out of the classroom, James clapped Remus round the shoulders. Good one, Rem! he said jovially, slinging his satchel over his shoulder and sweeping both of them out into the hallway. Remus did not feel remotely pleased with himself although he had, indeed, been the only one able to levitate in class. His mind had been on what he'd seen in the Mirror the previous night and it was proving to be quite a prevalent and rather annoying distraction. Earlier that day, on the way to Charms, he'd actually walked right into Severus Snape and leapt back with a high-pitched yelp. It had been a rather embarrassing thing to do in a hallway full of Slytherins, let alone fellow Gryffindors.   
  
When he and James caught up with Sirius and Peter and headed to the Great Hall for lunch, Remus was lost in thought yet again. As he walked behind Sirius -- tall, handsome and confoundedly arrogant Sirius, even -- he felt as though his feet were in shackles and his heart made of glass.  
  
By the time they were all sat at the table with their food in front of them, Remus had withdrawn so much into his own thoughts that he barely heard the conversation that was being tossed back and forth between Sirius and James.   
  
Say, James, Sirius was saying as he reached across the table for the flagon of pumpkin juice. Did you happen to see that blonde bit of totty we passed in the hallway?  
  
Hufflepuff girl? James inquired, not looking up from his sandwiches. Amelia Spaulding?  
  
If you say so, Sirius said, his arm stretched out fully and his fingers grasping for the flagon which was still about a hand's length away. Anyway, did you see that look she was giving me?  
  
James said offhandedly. Peter, however, was looking up from his lunch with interest, probably searching for an entrance into their conversation. Remus, who was sat between him and Sirius, seemed to have developed a sudden fascination with a spot on the rim of his solid gold plate.  
  
Well, she was definitely Looking at me, Sirius said proudly, resigning his conquest of the pumpkin juice for the moment in favour of gesturing grandly. And that's Looking' with a capital L,' mate. He traced the letter in the air with his index fingertip. She fancies me, I can tell.  
  
James had a mouth full of cucumber sandwich. He swallowed heavily. She's far out of your league. She could have any boy she wanted. And probably a few of the girls, too.  
  
She fancies the pants off me, Sirius said insistantly, pounding the tabletop with his fist and not noticing how Remus had half-choked on his own glass of pumpkin juice. Remus set the glass back down with a bit more force than was neccessary.  
  
I'd wager she'd skive off class and have a go with me in the greenhouse if I asked, Sirius said, not one to be defeated in any pursuit, be it a prospect or pumpkin juice. He reached across the table again.  
  
James rolled his eyes. Right. Her and every other girl in Hogwarts. And again, probably a few of the b-  
  
  
  
Sirius had fairly lunged across the tabletop for the flagon, his outstretched arm knocking Remus's glass right into his lap. Remus looked down at his soaked robes with dismay.  
  
A great many of the students at the table had looked up from their lunches, Lily included. Oh for Merlin's sake, Black! she shouted across the table with a fair amount of disgust. All you had to do was to ask someone to pass it to you! Or are you above that?!  
  
Sorry about that, mate, Sirius said to Remus, though he couldn't help but grin. Can't help myself sometimes!  
  
Lily made a nondescript noise of disapproval and returned her attention to her food. James snorted into his sandwich and Peter gave Remus a sympathetic shrug. Remus dejectly picked up a serviette and went about drying himself as best he could.   
  
A second or two later, Sirius nudged Remus, who looked up. Sirius was holding his wand under the table in one hand, and discreetly pointing to the next table over with the other. Snape, whose hair was still a violent shade of pink, was holding his hands up at shoulder-level and looking down at his robes with disgust. An overturned glass lay beside his plate.   
  
Sirius snickered and patted Remus on the arm. Thanks for the idea.  
  
Somehow, Remus managed a smile for him.  
  
Lights out found Remus curled onto his side in his bed, but he was wide awake and listening for the sounds of sleep from the boys' dormitory. First came the coarse, even breathing of James, every once in a while tainted by the hint of a snore. Next, he heard the faintly shrill, quick inhalations of Peter, shortly followed by the typical night-breathing of Osgood Klee, the other boy in their dormitory. Finally, Remus detected the faint, rumbling snores that could only come from Sirius. His nocturnal breathing pattern sounded like a large, menacing dog trying to growl as softly and gently as possible. Hearing it from halfway across the dormitory stirred something in Remus's heart. The sensation was light and feathery, yet heavy and warm like a humid summer day. The feeling was not unlike that of yearning. Remus hastily pushed himself out of bed, carefully pulled James's invisibility cloak from under the mattress and crept out of the dormitory, trying not to look at Sirius's bed in passing.  
  
It took him well over an hour of wandering round the castle to find it, but eventually, he came upon the door to the dusty class room once again. He made his way over to the mirror where he stood before it and looked. He was not certain why he had come, or what he was expecting, even hoping, to see. Again he saw the hand on his shoulder, the warm smile and the shimmering blue-grey eyes of Sirius Black. His breath caught in his throat as he watched the other boy tenderly kiss him again, and as he ran his fingers along the lines of Remus's neck. When that hand descended once again to the collar of his shirt, he swallowed heavily. His heart thundered in his chest as though riddled with panic, but he did not move. Some part of him rather wished to see how far this would go, and that curiosity stayed his feet on the floor and his rapt gaze at the mirror.  
  
Sirius's hand crept like a kitten over Remus's shirt and undid the top button, then trailed down to work on the next one. As Sirius slid that soft-looking hand into the Remus's shirt, the other arm snaked round his waist.   
  
As he watched, Remus felt something rise within him, fiery and beautiful like the dawn. He could almost feel the warmth of Sirius's hand sliding down his neck, his collarbone, his chest. A tiny cry escaped him as he saw Sirius kiss his neck . . .  
  
A distant whistling shattered his reverie. Remus jerked away from the mirror, suddenly quite alert, his breath caught in his throat. As the whistling drew slowly nearer, he heard a familiar set of mismatched footfalls and his heart froze. Remus knew the shuffling noises to be made by his Herbology teacher and head of Gryffindor House, Professor Arbroi, who had a clubfoot. With shaking hands, Remus hurriedly threw the cloak over himself and retreated to the corner of the room as the whistling and uneven footsteps came down the hall.   
  
He held his breath as he watched the angular silhouette limp past the doorway. Only after the noises had long since faded out of earshot did Remus move from that spot. He left the room and slunk out into the hallway. He did not run back to the Tower as he had before, but rather crept gingerly along the walls, carefully peeking round corners lest he bump into someone who might be prowling the corridors.   
  
When he had made it up the last flight of stairs to the Tower, Remus was met with a most unexpected sight. He froze on the top step as he watched Professor Arbroi, who was in the midst of accosting Sirius just outside the Portrait hole.  
  
What in Merlin's name are you doing, Mr. Black?  
  
Sirius looked for all the world as if Arbroi had just ripped his heart out and shown it to him. Er . . .  
  
You had better have a very good reason to be fannying about at this hour because as far as I know, all students are to remain in their Houses after midnight, Arbroi was now leering at Sirius from her great height. No exceptions.  
  
Remus somehow managed to notice that the Portrait had been left wide open and seized his chance. He carefully crept past Sirius and Arbroi and dissappeared into the Common Room. He hurried up the stairs, throwing off the cloak as he went and tiptoed into the dormitory, stopping only to stow the cloak under James's mattress before climbing into bed. Soon after, Sirius came shuffling up the stairs, his heavy steps revealing that his was in a bad disposition. Remus squirmed a bit and pulled his bedclothes tightly about him in the dark sanctuary of his four poster bed. He nearly cried out when he felt Sirius jump onto his mattress, hurriedly placing a hand over his mouth to quiet him.  
  
Why'd you go out? he hissed savagely. Remus was faintly terrified as Sirius carefully withdrew his hand. The smell of rage hung round the other boy.  
  
Y-you go out all the time, Remus whispered back when he'd recovered his power of speech.  
  
But you never go out, Sirius shot back, his voice dangerously soft, I know you were out last night too.  
  
Remus blinked against the darkness. He could only see the faintest outline of Sirius's face in the sea of black.   
  
That's right. Heard you coming back in. And when you didn't come back for such a long time tonight, I thought you might be in trouble so I was going to go find you.  
  
Remus felt a brief surge of gratitude toward his friend before the sentiment was savaged by Sirius roughly grabbing his shoulder. What'd you do, get attacked by the elves in the kitchen?  
  
I wasn't in the kitchen! Remus gasped.  
  
Then what're you doing arsing about with James's cloak at this hour?!  
  
Remus opened his mouth, then closed it. What could he possibly tell Sirius? He couldn't.  
  
Well, whatever it was, Sirius hissed angrily, it'd better be bloody well worth the twenty points I just lost us.  
  
With that, he picked himself up from Remus's bed and stormed off to his own, no longer caring if he woke up half the dormitory.  
  
Remus rolled over, suddenly swamped with guilt. Sirius had just lost them all twenty points for being a good friend. And even if the boy in the mirror had been loving, gentle and passionate, the real Sirius was angry with him. It was enough to make Remus want to curl into a tight ball till he dissappeared . . .  
  
Yet, as Sirius's last words echoed in his mind, Remus couldn't help thinking that it had been more than worth it. Lifting his hand in the darkness, he touched his neck where he'd seen his reflection kissed. As he continued to feel the spot, his fingertips soon became a pair of warm lips moving sensuously over his skin. He felt a soft fringe of hair brushing his jaw and strong arms embracing him from behind. He heard his name as if from far away.  
_  
_  
  
Sirius . . . He tried to roll over onto his side so that he might trap that lean, warm body in his arms and hold it captive. He did turn over successfully enough, however, before he could carry out the second part of his plan, the two strong hands seized him round the shoulders and held him tightly.  
_  
_  
  
He arched into the warmth, sighing softly as fire raced up and down his frame. Caresses. Kisses. A sudden blow to the face.  
  
Remus, WAKE UP, YOU DOLT!  
  
Remus groaned as he threw his hands over his offended face. When he opened his eyes, he saw James standing over him, brandishing a pillow. Don't just lie there, gitface! Get dressed, we're late!  
  
With that, James tossed his pillow back onto his bed and stalked off to the bathroom. Remus, only just awake enough to wonder fretfully whether he'd been talking in his sleep or not, yanked himself up and out of bed. When he'd put on his robes, he headed down to the bathroom where he found James trying to pacify his stupendous bed-hair with a comb. Remus almost laughed but a glance in the mirror told him he had some fairly stupendous bed-hair himself. I must have been tossing and turning,' he thought. As he brushed his teeth, he hoped that anyone who might have heard him thrashing about would have taken it for a mere nightmare rather than some wonderful, euphoric dream . . .  
  
Budge up, mate, James said, bumping Remus to the side so that he could have part of the sink to lean over while he made use of his own toothbrush. Sho, wha'ishish Shirish telshmebout yegoinout?  
  
Remus felt a rise of sarcasm and remarked, Oh, I didn't know you were Glaswegian.  
  
James rolled his eyes. Fery funny, Remush. He spat white foam into the sink. I said, so what's this Sirius tells me about you going out? He looked up at Remus with a vaguely serious expression. He says you took my cloak and went out last night after everyone else was asleep. And don't bother trying to fob me off with the kitchen. He already told me that's not where you went.  
  
Well, then I won't, because he's right and I didn't, Remus said with a little shrug. Somehow, he felt strangely comfortable talking with James. Perhaps it was because it wasn't _James_ that Remus had seen in the mirror.  
  
So where did you go? James asked almost casually, rinsing his toothbrush. I mean, it's not like I care that you're taking my cloak or anything. I do start caring, however, if you're losing us points. Between Sirius, Peter and me, we lose Gryffindor quite enough points without your help, thank you very much. He flashed Remus a mischievous grin. Besides, I'm nosy as anything and I'll find out eventually, so you might as well spill.  
  
Remus's mind went blank. The answer to James's question would not come to him. He certainly couldn't tell James what he'd seen in the mirror, but at the same time, he couldn't think of anything else to tell him. Remus had never been very good at lying. It was all he could do to plan excuses for his monthly absences in advance. That had begun to worry him lately. According to the list he kept in the back of his notebook, he'd come up with almost twenty different reasons for going away, from having a dentist's appointment back home, to a relative being ill. He was starting to run out of ideas and no new ones were coming to him fast. It seemed that having friends had awakened his sense of trust and his already brittle powers of deception had begun to atrophy even further. I'd rather not say, he answered truthfully, looking down at his feet.  
  
James regarded his friend for a pensive and painfully silent moment, then all at once, devilry flickered in his eyes. Tell you what, Rem. I'll let you borrow my cloak again, whenever you want it, in fact, with one condition. Remus snapped to attention and James named his price. Tonight, I get to go with you.   
  
By the time the two of them had crept into the classroom that night, Remus felt ready to collapse beneath the weight of the anxiety that was pressing in on him. James tugged the cloak off the both of them, bundling it up in his arms as unceremoniously as if it were perfectly acceptable to go creeping round the castle past lights-out. Remus then remembered that, according to James, it probably was perfectly acceptable to do that, among other things.  
  
I've never been in here, he remarked, looking round the moon-swathed room. The staircase just randomly took you here last night?  
  
That's right, Remus answered, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. I think it's an old classroom or something.  
  
James -ed absentmindedly, then asked, So why d'you come here, anyway?  
  
Swallowing hard and silently commanding his heart to not thrum so swiftly, he gestured toward the mirror at the back of the room. He opened his mouth to speak, but he still hadn't the slightest clue of anything he could say. Anything that wasn't incriminating, that is. Bracing himself, he followed James as the other boy made his way over to the mirror, curiosity making his stride brisk. As they neared it, Remus felt dread seize him in its thick coils, a hiss of foreboding sending a chill down his spine. When his friend saw why he was sneaking out, what he'd come here to see . . . He could not look at the glass and closed his eyes, steeling himself for James's appalled gasp.  
  
Merlin's sake, I need a haircut.  
  
Remus's eyes snapped open. In the mirror he saw himself and James exactly as they were, James scrutinising his reflection with disapproval. Remus's heart near dropped right out of him as he looked on. I- I don't understand . . .  
  
James was still wrinkling his nose at his reflection and lifted a hand to his apparently too-long hair. Remus could only shake his head in disbelief. Where was . . . ?  
  
What I don't understand, James said irritably, though Remus couldn't tell whether it was himself or James's hair that James was irritated at, is why you've been sneaking out here to see this. He gestured vaguely at the mirror with his free hand. It's just a mirror, like the ones we have in the boys' toilet.  
  
But it's _not!_ Remus argued, sounding a lot more desperate than he would have liked. While he was somewhat relieved that James could not see what Remus had though he'd see, Remus found himself dismayed at the thought that Sirius had gone from the mirror. If being able to relive his fantasy again meant revealing his dirty little secret to James, so be it. Without really thinking, Remus gave his friend an efficient, ungentle shove closer to the mirror and leapt away. Try looking at it that way. Now do you see?  
  
James squinted at the mirror and Remus held his breath. Hang on . . . He looked over his shoulder, glancing round the room before turning back to the mirror. What's Madam Pegasus d- Blimey, she's giving me the Quidditch Cup!  
  
Remus choked on his bewilderment. _Quidditch . . . Cup . . . ?  
_  
James nodded rapidly, his mouth broadening into a grin. I've won us the Quidditch Cup! And there's McGonagall in background! She's hijacked Romola's broom and now she's chasing Snape all over the field, twatting him round the head with our Transfiguration textbook!  
  
Even Remus had to grin at that.  
  
Ha, you should see this, Rem. He's crying like a baby! And there's Evans- James trailed off and it was all Remus could do not to laugh at the colour that was rising in his friend's cheeks.   
  
And there's Evans doing _what_? he teased.   
  
Nevermind . . . James said pallidly, positively engrossed in whatever it was he was seeing.   
  
Remus felt he had a fair inkling as to what it was. Oh, shall I leave you and the mirror alone for a moment? Remus said coyly. James nodded vigourously, not taking his eyes away from the mirror's shining surface. Remus chuckled to himself and picked up the invisibility cloak, then trooped off to the door. Very well, then, I'll just stand guard here, shall I? Make certain no one comes? It wasn't till he'd actually reached the doorway that he realised the little pun he'd unintentionally made. He snickered, then threw the cloak over himself and stepped out into the hall to give his friend some privacy. He was actually feeling no little bit light-hearted. He also felt an urge to smack himself for being so daft. Of course the mirror would only show a person's specific desires to that person. And James's reaction to his own vision was rather amusing, now that Remus could look back on it without the weight of that dread wrapped round him. Remus felt so happy, he actually danced a little jig beneath the cloak. His secret was still safe.  
  
After what he guessed to be about ten minutes later, Remus poked his head inside the door. Are you decent?  
  
James was, in fact, a picture almost perfect decency, sitting on the floor with his legs crossed and his chin resting on the back of his hand. The only thing that would have roused suspicion was the stupidly beatific grin smacked all over his face. Remus snickered. Was it good for you?  
  
Ah shut your face, James said, throwing Remus a playfully filthy look. And it's best thing since they put the Fizzing in Whizbees, whatever it is.  
  
Remus said, sitting beside James and watching as his reflection did likewise. That first word in the carving at the top of the frame is ERISED', which is spelled backwards, so I suppose this mirror shows you what you want most.  
  
James smiled wryly. Or _who_ you want most.  
  
That too, Remus agreed, nodding and also smiling, though for his own reasons.  
  
So how about you?  
  
What about me?  
  
Who's in it with you when you look? James queried, smirking and poking Remus in the ribs. I'd wager it's Romola, isn't it?  
  
Remus saw his reflection go from blankly panicked to quizzical all in one second. Wha-?! No one-?! _Who?!_  
  
James blinked at the scattered state of Remus's response. Romola Terrence? Ravenclaw Prefect? Brown hair? Brown eyes? Nice arse? Any of this ringing a bell?  
  
Oh right, Remus said distractedly, looking away from the mirror as he toyed with a loose string on his clothing so he wouldn't have to see himself lying through his teeth. Right, that's her. I really like her. She's very pretty, isn't she? Not as pretty as Lily, of course, but pretty. Very pretty.  
  
Silence hung between them and Remus felt very stupid. The lack of noise was such that he could almost hear the silence itself laughing at him.  
  
  
  
  
  
You're utter crap at fibbing, did you know? He laughed. Now come on, who do you see? He pressed, getting up and pulling Remus to his feet as well, then stepping away. Remus watched with some trepidation as his friend's reflection vanished beyond the carved frame of the mirror. Even as he saw the pale, moon-washed hand of Sirius Black materialising on his shoulder, Remus smirked and said, I see you.  
  
James's mouth dropped open and his eyes went wide with incredulity and something that looked like terror. Me? Me, as in James Potter _me_?  
  
Remus laughed. That's right, I see James Potter. I see him stepping out for a bit to give Remus Lupin a go with the mirror as Remus was kind enough to do for him.  
  
Har har har. James rolled his eyes and flipped Remus off before snatching up the Cloak and taking his leave as requested. As Remus watched him disappear under the cloak and the door swing open a bit, he began to wonder if he'd gone too far. Had it been a mistake to tell his friend that he'd seen himself with another boy in the mirror, even if he was only joking that it had been James? That could stir suspicion, especially after he'd dodged the question of who he did see and failed so embarrassingly at pretending it was a girl . . .  
  
Remus's worries, however, fell by the wayside as he watched Sirius's expert fingers unbuttoning his shirt, sliding over his skin as they'd done before. His head tilted to the side of its own accord as his neck was kissed. Feeling surrender creeping up his knees, Remus lowered himself to a sitting position on the dusty floorboards, not taking his eyes off the mirror. Sirius had been guiding his reflection to the floor, with gentle but firm touches along his sides. Once he was sat, Sirius sank into a kneel and finished unbuttoning the shirt so as to fully explore the contours of Remus's torso, starting at his slender waist, then tracing each faintly visible rib till those animated fingers reached the sparcely muscled chest. Remus bit his lip to keep from moaning or sighing. He'd heard a few telltale noises from James while waiting in the hallway, but he wasn't about to do the same in return.  
  
Sirius was still working away at Remus's neck, his tongue keen, pink and glistening against the silvered tableau of moonlit classroom, rumpled clothing and smooth skin. Remus felt that familiar heat rising within him and his breathing veered off course, becoming slightly staggered. He imagined he could feel the warmth in the pads of Sirius's fingertips and palms tracing a map of fire over his body. He told himself he could feel that hot mouth enslaving his neck. When Sirius's hands ventured lower, it was all Remus could do to keep his own hands from doing the same . . .  
  
Another ten minutes later found the two back under the cloak and making their way down the corridor to the Common Room. About halfway there, James stopped, putting a hand on Remus's shoulder to stop him as well.  
  
What is it? he whispered.  
  
You've got dust all over your bum, James informed him.   
  
Remus said, then went about swatting his hands across his trousers to get the fluffy grey bits off. He then remembered that James had been sitting on the floor as well and looked inquiringly at the seat of his friend's trousers.  
  
I already brushed mine off. James said dismissively. Indeed, he was void of dust,   
except for one little bit clinging to the fabric of his clothing.  
  
You missed a spot. Remus said and went about brushing the remaining dust from James's trousers.   
  
When he finished, he found his friend staring at him strangely. You're not a poof are you?  
  
Remus's heart jolted violently. He forced calm into his nerves and looked at James as though he'd sprouted flowers out of his ears. Where did _that_ come from?  
  
James shrugged, I dunno, I've never seen you go for girls, you won't tell me who you see in the mirror and now you're hovering round my arse.  
  
Remus frowned as though he'd been insulted, though it was all he could do to keep his knees from shaking. First of all, I've never really _gone_ for anyone and second, you still had some dust on your trousers, I already told you that.  
  
James eyed him suspiciously. What about the mirror?  
  
In the mirror, Remus began, trying to make his speech sound as natural as possible, I'm getting my letter from Hogwarts, and there's a Prefect badge in it.  
  
You _want_ to be a Prefect? James queried, surprised.  
  
Remus said, shrugging, It'd look good on my record in any case. And I'm holding a new puppy. I've always wanted a dog, Remus reasoned quickly, amazed at how fast the fibs were coming to him. And it's my fifth year and I've gotten top marks on my O.W.L.s. That's all. he finished. James still looked suspicious, but Remus was saved by the sound of footfalls coming down the hall. Making sure the Cloak was covering them completely, they darted to the side, pressing themselves as close to the wall as possible and waited.  
  
Finally, Geoffrey Morgan, the heavyset blonde Hufflepuff Prefect rounded the corner and came striding pompously down the hall in the direction of his House. After he'd passed the Cloaked duo and dissappeared from view, Remus snickered softly.  
  
What's he doing, prowling round the corridors in the dead of night? James hissed.  
  
He's just come from the toilet, Remus whispered, smirking.  
  
How can you tell?  
  
He had toilet paper on his shoe.  
  
James and Remus made it back to the Tower with no further talk of the Mirror or Remus's sexual orientation and for that, Remus was very glad. He had a feeling he wouldn't have been able to keep up his lies for much longer, the images were so vivid in his mind.  
  
As he climbed into bed, Remus reflected on what he'd seen in the Mirror. James had dutifully given him a full ten minutes at least, and that had been enough. Sirius had taken him, right before his eyes. He had been gentle, but there was a quiet ferocity in the way he held Remus's trembling frame against him, stroking, tasting, thrusting. It was all Remus had been able do to keep quiet as he watched himself in the mirror, arching against the other boy, his mouth falling open in a silent howl of pleasure.   
  
Even now, utterly alone in the dark space between the curtains of his four poster bed, Remus shivered to remember it all. Recollection sent pleasurable tingles scurrying along his body. In the wake of this sensation came a cool, soothing sort of freedom that glittered as it washed over him.   
  
Remus _wanted_ Sirius. He wanted Sirius to kiss him, touch him, take him. He wanted Sirius to want him.  
  
. . . And finally being able to admit that to himself without the bitter aftertaste of shame was the best feeling in the world.  
  
The next few weeks passed fairly uneventfully, except that James tried out for the House Quidditch team and was appointed Seeker for Gryffindor. After a celebration for him in the Common Room, life at Hogwarts went on as could be expected. Whenever they could, the four spent Saturday morning outside with Remus's football. During the academic week, they pretty much clung to their individual pasttimes and penchants. Peter struggled with his studies. James attended Quidditch practice and hexed Snape on an almost daily basis. Sirius flirted with every girl in sight. Remus watched Sirius flirt with every girl in sight. Of course it annoyed him, but he could hardly complain. The girls waved to Sirius and smiled at him, so why shouldn't Sirius do the same in return? Remus didn't act upon his newfound attraction, so Sirius didn't flirt with him. He knew it was not as simple as that, really, but Remus was always one for cold, hard logic, even if it didn't make him feel any better. Besides, he always had the mirror to fall back on if his own bitterness became too much for him. On nights when James and Sirius did not go out to sneak food from the kitchens, the Cloak was available to Remus and he always made use of it in the same way.  
  
One evening, James was late in returning from Quidditch practice. Sirius was also missing from the Common Room, Remus noticed. He had actually managed to finish his assignments a bit earlier than he'd planned, so he'd settled down in an armchair with a Muggle novel and begun to read. Peter was on the other side of the Common Room, buried in a heap of homework.   
  
Sooner or later, the Portrait Hole opened and in stepped Sirius and James. The latter was carrying two heavy textbooks in the crook of his arm.   
  
Nicked these from the Restricted Section in the library with a little help from the cloak, James explained in a sidelong whisper to Remus. Me and Sirius and Pete are fancying the idea of becoming Animagi.  
  
Think of all the skiving and marauding we could do if we could change into animals whenever we wanted, Sirius added thoughtfully.  
  
It's just a hobby on the side. We haven't gotten any real results yet. I think I actually managed to grow a tail at some point, but I'm not sure, James said, carefully setting the two books on the table in the far corner of the Common Room. He turned to Sirius, You wanna go get Peter?  
  
Sirius said and sidled off to the other side of the room where Peter was studying.  
  
James grinned. We started working on it last year, and I only just got round to getting the books back this year. I don't think we'll actually be able to do it, but it's a fun idea anyway.  
  
Remus said, only partially interested. He had other things on his mind. Er, James? If you're not going to be using your cloak any more tonight, could I borrow it?  
  
James blinked, then nodded and retrieved the cloak from his satchel. Sure thing, Rem.  
  
That night, Remus returned to the mirror again, ready to salve his pangs of longing by watching delicious procedure in the reflection and dreaming it all real . . .  
  
Welcome back, Remus.  
  
Remus felt as though he'd been plunged into ice-cold water. Rigid with dread, he turned toward the source of the voice, though he already knew to whom it belonged.  
  
Professor Dumbledore, Remus breathed, standing and dusting himself off for the sake of having something to do. The headmaster was sat on the desk at the front of the classroom in the lotus position, his hands resting palms up upon his knees. The bottom of his beard rested in a curl in his lap, gleaming silver in the moonlight and he was surveying Remus with clear, placid blue eyes.  
  
I didn't even notice you there, Remus remarked, bewildered as he approached the desk. Dumbledore smiled gently. When meditating, the goal is to become one with your surroundings. Don't just feel the world round you. Become a part of it. Lose yourself in it. Bid the material realm farewell and . . . Disappear. He raised an eyebrow, looking directly at the cloak in Remus's arms.  
  
A shock of dread arched in the pit of Remus's stomach. James had warned him not to be caught with the cloak. Now, he was facing Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, having taken the cloak out for a bimble round the school when he should rightly be asleep. The cloak would be confiscated for sure. When he returned to James empty-handed . . . And the mirror . . . Dumbledore knew he'd come here before. Had he seen . . . ? It was all Remus could do to remain standing.   
  
I see you've discovered the Mirror of Erised and the splendid sights therein, Dumbledore commented mildly, unfolding his legs and rising from the desk. However, I must tell you, Remus, that splendid sights are sights nonetheless and should not be regarded as anything more.  
  
I-I beg your pardon, sir, Remus stammered, but what do you mean?  
  
I mean only this, Dumbledore explained, pointing to the mirror, What you see in this mirror is an illusion and nothing more. It is beautiful to look at, but making a habit of simply looking just will not do. Life is not a spectator sport, Remus. He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. It is like any other sport; the only way to achieve your goal is to pursue it and take a shot. You of all people should know this, Dumbledore said quietly, dropping a wink. Speaking of which, I might recommend you use a drying Charm on the grass before you start to play on it. That way, you might not slip and fall so much. He smiled.   
  
Remus could not help smiling back. Th-thank you, sir.  
  
Dumbledore nodded. Very well, then. Now, why don't you and that remarkable cloak head back up to your dormitory?  
  
Remus's mouth fell open. You mean-?  
  
No, Remus, I am not going to confiscate it, Dumbledore confirmed, And I must ask you to not plan on using it to visit this place again. I will be moving the Mirror to a new location tomorrow and I must request that you honour what I have said about the importance of pursuit in life and not go looking for it. Please believe me when I say you won't be needing it if you take my words to heart.  
  
I understand, sir, Remus said, nodding once.  
  
Dumbledore added, a small twinkle in his eye, Mr. Black and Mr. Potter have already discovered that this Cloak can be put toward much more _taste_ful purposes. Good-night Remus.  
  
Remus grinned. Thank you, Headmaster. Good-night. He threw the cloak over himself and quietly left the classroom.  
  
Their first class the next day was Defence Against the Dark Arts, and James and Remus were walking the fine line between punctual and tardy. They found their seats barely half a second before Professor Ayne came sweeping into the room. He was a fairly average man to look at with floppy, boyish auburn hair and pale green eyes behind round glasses, but he had a certain flair to him that made him the subject of a lot of gossip and sniggering amongst the student populace.   
  
Simmer, simmer, Professor Ayne chirped as he strode briskly up the gap between the desks to the front of the classroom. When he reached his desk, he turned to face them, his robes sweeping magnificently behind him as he did. he began with a broad smile, Yesterday, we left off with fire manipulation and how to detect an oncoming pyro-attack, I believe . . .  
  
As he flipped through a textbook, Remus heard a few students behind him whispering to each other, making various puns on the subject of Fire Magic. He heard the word drifting amongst them, and felt something cold lurch inside him. He glanced over at the other side of the room where Sirius was sat, sneering at Ayne and occasionally whispering to the girl next to him. She giggled and blushed every time he did.   
  
Ah, yes, Professor Ayne said suddenly, tapping the page his book was now open to, Now that we know what a Flame Hex is, we'd better learn how to counter it, hm? Page one hundred eighty-four, if you please.  
  
When the lesson was over, the students surged out of the classroom, lighthearted and wrought with giggling as they usually were after almost every class with Professor Ayne.  
  
That Ayne is such a bloody ponce, James was saying to Sirius as they, along with Remus and Peter were making their way back to the Great Hall for dinner. Makes you wonder what he does in his spare time, James smirked and added as an afterthought, Or _who_ he does.  
  
Peter sniggered and Sirius laughed that crisp, barklike laugh of his that Remus would have loved to hear any other day. Remus tried to laugh along with them, but found it was all he could do not to give Sirius a good kick in the trousers.  
  
Sirius agreed, mirth colouring his words, I'd wager it's Snivellus. How else is he getting top marks in the class?  
  
As the other three erupted with laughter, Remus looked down at his feet so they wouldn't see him scowling.   
  
James pulled a mocking tone into his voice as he pretended to be Snape, Oh, Professor Ayne, I just love your class! I love the Dark Arts!  
  
Sirius cottoned on and made a sweeping gesture of flattery, Why thank you, my boy! Why don't you pop by after supper and we can discuss all of the things you love? He fingered his wand suggestively, then dropped it. Ooo bugger, my wand! Speaking of which, tell me, dear boy, what rhymes with   
  
They burst into hysterics, all except Remus, who had had enough.   
  
Peter gave a startled yelp as he was jostled by Remus, who stormed ahead of them at a swift, jerky clip. For a few thick seconds, the three just stared, thunderstruck, as Remus left them in his wake and dissappeared amongst the the crowd of fellow students. They continued to walk and chatter amongst themselves as if nothing had happened, as if they hadn't even noticed the state Remus was in as he passed. Then again, hardly anyone noticed Remus . . .  
  
What's eating him? Peter mused out loud. As if in response, Sirius charged after Remus, forgetting the other two entirely. After a moment's search that passed in a blur, he found his target at the bottom of the staircase to Gryffindor Tower. Oi, Remus! he called. Wait up!  
  
Remus did stop, then rounded on Sirius. What do you want?  
  
Sirius scowled right back, mirroring Remus's own insolent expression, What's your problem?  
  
_My_ problem?! Remus spat heatedly, unable to believe that Sirius could possibly be angry with him after what he'd heard. How _dare_ he?!  
  
You heard me! Sirius yelled. You're all tetchy, snapping at everyone, sneaking out at night! He stopped abruptly when he realised that they were being stared at. He whipped round and yelled, _What?! _Does this look like it involves you?! _Sod off!_ The little cluster of first and second years was duly scattered.  
  
He turned back to Remus. Having expelled some heat in that last outburst, he was able to quiet his voice a bit. Remus, something's going on.  
  
Remus snorted. All that's going on is you're being a pig-headed toerag. Just because someone makes a few gestures here and there that doesn't mean he's buggering his students.  
  
Sirius's mouth fell open. That stuff we were saying about Ayne and Snape? Come on, it was a joke!  
  
Not a very funny one, Remus snarled.   
  
Why are you getting so worked up over it?  
  
Remus's heart twisted and he turned away from Sirius, I have my reasons. He started up the staircase.   
  
Sirius lunged after him, clearing the first three steps in a single leap. Don't you turn your back on me when I'm talking to you! He seized Remus by the forearm. Remus tried to yank himself free and yelled Let go! Sirius yanked back. What're you hiding?! When Remus only continued to struggle against his grip, he gave an exceptionally hard tug. Before he could really comprehend what he'd done, Remus was falling against him, sending the two of them reeling backwards. They found the hall floor with a dull thud. Remus's head swam, but he felt no pain upon impact. A groan from Sirius brought him back to himself and he looked up sharply. His heart skipped a beat as he realised that the soft surface he'd lifted his head from was Sirius's chest and he found himself staring into a pair of pale, grey-blue eyes, narrowed in pain. It only vaguely occurred to him that he was lying on top of Sirius, he was so lost in that stare.  
  
For one beautiful, pain-riddled moment, the two of them stayed like that, Remus impaled upon the silvered gaze of his friend as Sirius lay gasping beneath him, his hair splayed round his head like black tongues of flame.  
  
Only when James and Peter came running onto the scene did Remus break out of his reverie. At Peter's startled cry, Remus jerked himself up and off of Sirius as if he'd been scalded. Sputtering apologies and trying not to look at his other friends' bewildered faces, he hastily held out his hand for Sirius to help him to his feet. Sirius, having come back to himself but still wincing, grasped Remus's hand, only to pause, staring at it strangely. The sleeve of his robes had been pulled up a bit in the scuffle, baring half his forearm. Sirius pulled his hand toward him for a closer look, but Remus, realising what Sirius was looking at, jerked out of his grasp. Leaving Sirius in a confused heap on the floor, he fled up the stairs without a word and dissappeared from view.  
  
James and Peter ran to Sirius's side and helped him up themselves.   
  
What was that all about? Peter queried, sounding for all the world like he's just watched a boa constrictor crush a puppy to death.   
  
I . . . don't know, Sirius answered truthfully. But something's going on.  
  
How do you mean? James asked, only to jump in disgust, Ugh, man, you're bleeding! He pointed to the floor. A smear of red glistened on the spot where Sirius's head had hit. Sirius instinctively lifted a hand to the back of his head. His fingers came back red.  
  
Let's go the hospital wing, James suggested, though he actually grabbed Sirius's arm and pushed him in the direction in a way that said it was an intention, not a suggestion. We'll talk there.  
  
Peter, still no little bit gobsmacked by it all, toddled mutely behind them.  
  
After Madam Pomfrey had patched Sirius up, the three were sat on the bed farthest to the back of the hospital wing, talking quietly.  
  
Has anyone else noticed Remus is acting really odd lately? Sirius asked, touching the bandage on the back of his head for the sake of busying his hands.   
  
Peter nodded diminutively, his eyes dark with thought. He's been really uptight. When I asked him to help me with my Divination Homework, he acted like he didn't hear me. It was like he was off in his own little world or something. Maybe it has something to do with him going out at night.  
  
Hm, that could have something to do with it, Sirius agreed, turning to James. Did you ever find out why he goes out?  
  
Not yet, James lied. He didn't want to have to tell Sirius about the mirror. If he did, there would be questions and he didn't really want to share what he'd seen reflected in the glass.  
  
Well, I think Remus is hiding something from us, Sirius said decisively. And I think he needs our help.  
  
James frowned quizzically. Help? What for?  
  
When he went to help me up back there, Sirius said gravely, I saw his wrist and it's covered with scars.  
  
Peter made a small, choking noise and his eyes widened. James said, unbelieving. So you think he's-  
  
I dunno, Sirius said, his eyes a grim, glass-grey colour in the waning daylight. But if he's hurting himself, I want to know why.  
  
It could have been an accident, Peter offered tentatively, twisting his fingers into each other, He could've been careless with the kitchen knife, or some-  
  
Careless with the kitchen knife . . . James mused quietly to himself as recollection began to unravel the veil over his mind.   
  
Sirius made an incredulous noise, Peter, this wasn't just one scar. His wrist looked like he attacked it with one of those Muggle chain saws. It didn't stop at his wrist either. From what I saw, I'd wager he's got scars all up his arms. It's happened more than once and it _wasn't_ an accident.  
  
Peter flinched at Sirius's tone, but James was already on his feet.  
  
Where're you - ?  
  
I've gotta go talk to Remus, see you back at the Common Room! James gushed in one breath as he took off, leaving Peter and Sirius staring blankly after him.  
  
When he arrived back at the common room, James was relieved to find it empty, save for Remus. He then remembered that everyone was down at the Great Hall having dinner and James realised that he had quite forgotten that he was missing his evening meal. However, he pushed any newly-awakened hunger off to the side. He might not have another chance to talk with Remus alone in the common room like this any time soon.   
  
The other boy was sat in a comfortable armchair by the fire. He had his Charms textbook open in his lap and was reading with his brow set in an industrious furrow. James took a deep breath and approached him.  
  
Oi, Rem, James said, waving his hand in front of his friend's eyes. I wanna talk to you about something.  
  
You can brag about whatever hex you put on Snape later, Remus said tartly, pushing James's hand away and not taking his eyes of his book. I've put off this reading too long as it is.  
  
You'll want to hear this, James insisted firmly, a bit more serious.  
  
Not right now, I don't, said Remus, annoyed.  
  
Remus, listen to me.  
  
James, for last t-  
  
I know your secret.  
  
Remus froze, save for his hands which trembled upon the pages of his book. Heat rose in his face and with it, anger and humiliation. His mind raced. How had James found out? He hadn't told anyone! Had he said too much at the mirror that night? Had James seen him staring intently at Sirius? Had he talked in his sleep? Remus wanted to speak, but his words were stunted by his horror.  
  
James said quickly, though his voice was jagged with haste and trifling irritation. I know everything. Why didn't you tell me? How can you expect any of us to be your friends if you don't trust us? Sirius is really worried about you, and Peter-  
  
Remus snapped acidly, feeling all his carefully-guarded self-control crumbling away as he jerked round to face James. James felt trepidation crawl through his insides as he saw the wild sheen of anger in Remus's widened eyes. This boy, whom he had always seen as frail, softspoken and passive now looked ready to tear James's throat out right then and there. Is he?! Remus cried out, enraged. Well, you can tell Sirius that yes, I am a poof and yes, I fancy him, and yes, I _was_ staring at his arse yesterday. You can tell him that I snuck out under your cloak so I could look at some stupid mirror and watch him fuck me into the floor! That's right, when I look at the Mirror, I see him! And you can tell him to go fuck half the first years for all I care when you two tell the whole school Backs to the wall! Lupin's_ queer!'_!  
  
James had fallen back against another armchair, his jaw slack and his eyes wide with terror. Silence exploded painfully between the two and all round them, the air reeked of catharsis. Remus shrank back against the chair as if beseeching it swallow him. His book fell, forlorn and open to the floor. The stark, white pages glared up at the two boys.  
  
  
  
Go away, Remus growled coldly. Leave me alone.  
  
James stood his ground. Remus, I was talking about your lycanthropy.  
  
Remus rounded on James as if to yell at him again, but the only sound that escaped him was a tiny, quizzical, W-! . . . Huh?  
  
When I said I knew your secret, I meant that I know why you keep disappearing, James said evenly, though a residue of shock still clung to his voice. I know you're a werewolf.  
  
Remus felt leaden, as though even his voice was too heavy to raise. After a few moments of silent straining, he managed to utter, H-how did you find out?  
  
James shrugged, Actually Peter just said something that made me remember something from before I came to Hogwarts and I made the connection. And, it's a bit too convenient that you're allergic' to silver and your gran's ill on the night of the full moon.  
  
I suppose, Remus said a little balefully, averting his eyes.  
  
Hey, it's all right, James said quickly, touching his friend's shoulder and making Remus look up suddenly. What, did you think we'd hate you or be afraid of you if we knew?  
  
Remus said flatly.  
  
Well, I don't think you're giving us much credit. James laughed a bit. It was a shimmering, colourless sound. I mean come on, we're not that small in the head. Not even Peter, and that's saying something. You know, I had a neighbour who was a werewolf. She was really nice. Made really good cookies, too.  
  
Remus blinked. So, you don't care-?  
  
James gestured dismissively, Course not. Friends are friends. Besides, werewolves are people too. He stopped and considered what he just said. Er, except on that one night each month, of course.  
  
Remus said quietly, studying the fibres in the carpet.  
  
Speaking of which, James added, pointing out the window, the sun's going down. You'd better go find Madam Pomfrey soon.  
  
Oh, right, Remus muttered, getting to his feet with some difficulty. He'd been so preoccupied with thoughts of Sirius and the Mirror for the past few days that he'd all but forgotten that the full moon was at hand.   
  
As he made his way to the Portrait Hole, he stopped and turned back to his friend. Uh, James? About that stuff I told you . . .  
  
James shrugged and crossed his mouth with a finger. Your secret's safe with me.  
  
Remus nodded his thanks and left, feeling just a bit lighter than before.  
  
The next morning, Remus was sat up in bed in the hospital wing, rubbing sleep out his   
eyes with one heavily bandaged wrist. He wished Madam Pomfrey could heal his wounds the way she could others, but there is powerful magic in a werewolf's bite that makes the symptoms uncurable. Even the wound itself could not be healed by magic, and had to be treated the Muggle way. Likewise, the resulting scars were permanent and could not be removed by any magical means, hence Remus's long-standing friendship with long sleeves.  
  
Remus held his arm up and made a face at what he saw. At this point in his life, he was well-practiced at nursing his own wounds the morning after his transformation. He could usually bandage his arms himself, put on long sleeves and then go about his life as usual. However, it had been a rough night. Not as rough as it could have been, but he'd done some considerable damage to himself and Madam Pomfrey was of the opinion that he should have a bit of rest before he rejoined the world at large. He looked at the red-stained bandages pensively, picturing what the wounds had looked like before they'd been covered. He knew that a werewolf did not keep his human mind when he changed, but Remus had often wondered if any emotional turmoil he had prior to the full moon effected the mind of the wolf during it.   
  
Yawning, Remus extended a bandage-encased arm toward the table, reaching for the pitcher of water that Madam Pomfrey always left.  
  
There was something else there. Remus frowned, puzzled, as he lifted what looked like a greeting card from the table. It was completely blank inside and all over, little more than a folded piece of parchment. He nearly jumped clear out of bed when familiar, messy writing began to scrawl across the card of its own accord.  
_  
Morning, Rem! It's James. Pretty neat, eh? I found this spell in our Charms textbook that lets me write stuff on one piece of parchment and it automatically gets written on another. I Charmed yours last night while everyone else was asleep and slipped it to you early this morning with the help from our friend, The Cloak. Would have left you a regular old note, but none of the students are supposed to know you're a werewolf and I didn't want Pomfrey to find evidence in writing that you'd told anyone. Hope I did the spell right. If not, you're not reading this anyway and I'm sitting in Transfiguration writing pointlessly like a sleep-deprived dolt when I should be trying to turn this spadger into a badger like a sleep-deprived dolt._  
  
Remus smiled, both from amusement and gratitude.  
  
_ Anyway, I wanted to tell you I meant what I said last night. Sirius and Peter are really worried about you. Especially Sirius. I probably shouldn't tell you this, but Sirius told me the day before yesterday that he saw the scars on your arms. He thinks you're cutting yourself._  
  
The smile dropped and Remus's heart thumped heavily. Sirius thought he was . . . ? The writing resumed its course and he followed it avidly with his eyes.  
  
_ I'll let you tell them yourself. And if you don't want Sirius to have you committed, I'd do it soon if I were you. They both deserve to know. Besides, if Sirius is a good enough friend to be that concerned about you, he's a good enough friend to know the truth._  
  
Remus exhaled heavily and tried to tell himself that he was not sighing. You sound like my mum,' he thought thickly.  
  
_ And now that I look at those last few lines, I realise I must sound like your mum,_ James continued, making Remus blink in surprise. _All lecturing aside, I think you should tell them. They'll be all right with it. As for that other thing you told me . . ._  
  
This time, Remus inhaled. Sharply.  
  
_ . . . I'm all right with it, I guess. Better Sirius's arse than mine, anyway._  
  
Remus wasn't sure whether he wanted to laugh at that or not.  
  
_ As long as you keep your hands to yourself around me and don't talk too much about it, then it's fine. But I think you shouldn't tell Sirius that particular secret until you're sure he'll be all right with it. He's got a lot of attention of the female persuasion and he doesn't seem too unhappy about it._   
  
Don't I know it, Remus muttered bitterly.   
  
_He could have any girl he wanted - but if he came near Evans, I'd trample him into the dirt. Or headbutt him in the groin. Or both . . ._  
  
He felt his smile contemplating its return.  
  
_ Well, you get it. But who knows? Maybe he does swing that way. Like I said, he could have any girl he wanted, but he hasn't actually picked one yet, has he?_   
  
Remus did smile as he read that, a new hope burst into fluttering life in his heart.  
  
_ In any case, be really careful about that half of your secret. And don't tell Peter because he might blow your cover. To tell you the truth, after seeing how nasty you got over the whole thing last night, I've got to say I hope you do land him. I'm rooting for you. . . . Ack, gotta go. The lesson ended three minutes ago and I'm still sitting here! _  
  
As James ended the letter with a very foul swearword and a hasty good-bye, Remus could not remember a time when he'd felt more happy. He'd always been afraid of hope because he knew it could very well let him down in the end, but this hope was too great and too sweet not to indulge in. James had a point. Sirius was constantly on the receiving end of many an adoring stare from girls as he walked from class to class. However, he'd done little more than flash a winning smile in return. Remus also felt overwhelming joy and gratitude. Not only had James accepted him for who and what he was, but the was rooting for his friend, hoping that he would tell Sirius how he felt and win him over. Remus smiled more brightly and broadly than he'd ever thought possible. At last, he had a true friend.  
  
He was so intent on staring at that impossibly uplifting, _I'm rooting for you,_ that he didn't even realise that Madam Pomfrey had arrived at his bedside till she spoke.  
  
What is that?   
  
Remus started, making the mattress springs creak. Oh! I . . . Sorry. All at once, he threw himself out of bed. The bloody bandages flickered briefly into view when the sleeves of his hospital gown rode up his arms as he flung them outward for momentum. Madam Pomfrey cried out at this sudden display of energy, Mr. Lupin, what-?!  
  
I'd like to go to class now, Madam Pomfrey, Remus said, his voice and expression limned with enthusiasm and eagerness. He picked up his clothes where she'd set them on the bedside table and slipped the parchment into one of the pockets of his robes. I feel much better!  
  
That afternoon, during lunch, the four friends met at Remus's behest under the oak tree by the lake.  
  
So, what's this all about? Sirius asked as he had a seat on the grass, propping himself up with his hands behind his back and stretching his legs out in front.   
  
Peter nodded, a trifle sore over being hurried outside before he could grab a treacle tart. Yeah, what's so important it couldn't wait till after dessert? After a few seconds of touching the ground experimentally, he finally sat. Peter had an odd habit of inspecting places before he sat on them, carefully eying them and brushing or poking them lightly with a fingertip as if to make sure the surface wouldn't scald him. Only after he'd done all that would he gingerly lower himself onto the chair, the carpet, the ground, or whatever was available at the time. It was a sight that never failed to quietly amuse Remus.  
  
The other two settled down on the grass as well and James turned to Remus, offering a wink and an almost conspiratorial smile. Well Remus, we're waiting with baited breath to hear this news of yours, so spill already.  
  
Remus smiled. Beneath the bandages on his chest, his heart was thrumming, making him lightheaded with excitement. It was then that he realised that he hadn't even thought about how he was going to tell them. How to begin . . . ? A yellow feather of anxiety tickled at his determination, but he did not falter.  
  
He spoke smoothly. How would you all describe me?  
  
Everyone looked a bit surprised at Remus's inquiry. Even James looked as though he had not expected that. Come on, then. Don't try to flatter me, Remus urged. It's important. What do you three think of me?  
  
Sirius finally spoke. Well, you're kind of . . . withdrawn, he said guardedly. Remus tried not to grin when he noticed Sirius glance at his sleeves as if trying to see through them. You're a bit shy, I mean, he amended hastily.  
  
Peter offered timidly, toying with a bit of grass. And you read a lot.  
  
A trifle _queer_, I'd say.  
  
Remus started at that remark and fixed James with an alarmed and betrayed glare. James shrugged innocently. Well, you have to admit, you are a bit on the _odd_ side.  
  
He shot a sidelong glance at James as if to say, _You promised! Don't push it!'_ and quickly glanced from Sirius to Peter, assessing them. From what he could see, the insinuation had been lost on the two. Relief swept away his panic and he promptly got back on-topic. So, if people asked about me as a person, you'd tell them I'm withdrawn, shy, quiet, studious, and _odd_. He chanced a meaningful look at James who simply straightened his tie and pretended to be fascinated with a knot on one of the tree's roots.  
  
What're you getting at, Remus? Sirius muttered through a sigh as he ran his hand through his hair.   
  
Would you say I was dangerous? Not to be trusted? _Monstrous?_ Remus inquired benignly. Do you think that I'm not the sort of person you'd want to meet alone at night? He could almost feel James's smirk beside him as he cast a discreet glance at Sirius who shrugged.  
  
I wouldn't say so, Peter volunteered.  
  
Me, neither, Sirius agreed, though the slant in his voice betrayed an edge of suspicion. You seem pretty tame to me. Why?   
  
Well, I'm glad you all think as much, Remus said simply, gathering his courage. Because there's something else you should know about me.  
  
And what's that? James cajoled, nudging Remus's arm. Remus cottoned on and edged closer to Sirius. He looked meaningfully at the boy in front of him and rolled up his sleeves.  
  
Peter yelped in shock at the sight of the bloodied bandages and nearly fell backward. Sirius said nothing, but his breathing grew taut and his jaw clenched. His eyes were hard and unreadable like smooth marble. Remus considered toying with him for a bit longer, but that would mean subjecting himself to the possibility of another near miss from James. He said, There's more.   
  
Sirius watched silently as Remus peeled back one of the bandages, wincing at the pain as he bared his savaged wrist. Sirius leaned in for a closer look and frowned. Are those bitemarks?  
  
Remus nodded. Sirius looked at up to face him, concern warring with pride in his eyes. Did you get attacked by a dog last night?  
  
I got attacked by myself, Remus said quietly.  
  
Peter was whimpering and scooted closer to James. Sirius did not take his eyes off of Remus. I don't under-  
  
I'm a werewolf.  
  
If Sirius hadn't been stock still from shock before, he was rigid now. Dismay blossomed blackly inside Remus, making his heart sink. Things were not going as well as he had thought. The way James had written, he'd expected the others to take to this news like a weather forecast. He saw at once that he was wrong. Even after the slow lead-up, they were shocked. Frightened, even. Remus averted his eyes. Looking into Sirius's own alarmed ones was like looking into the glare of the sun. It hurt too much. Even looking at his wounded arm did not hurt so much as he let his gaze drift downward.  
  
A dull thudding noise to the side broke the spell and both boys looked up sharply.  
  
W-what happened? Sirius stammered. James was leaning over the reclined form of Peter, bewilderment and amusement colouring his expression. He fainted!So that's why you get peaky as the moon gets fuller, James commented with realisation. Peter, who had not yet said a word on the subject, reached for the pitcher on the bedside table and poured himself a glass of water. His hands trembled, but only slightly and Remus was relieved to see as much. Peter was still shaken by the news, but the initial shock was steadily ebbing away.  
  
That's right. The bigger the moon gets, the more I feel it inside me, building momentum for the transformation. Remus nodded, running his fingers through his hair which had adopted a pale, metallic sheen in the brilliant afternoon sunshine that streamed in through the windows of the hospital wing. Almost an hour had passed since their palaver outside. After Peter had fainted, they'd taken him to the hospital wing, somehow managing to fob Madam Pomfrey off by telling her that he'd been done for by the heat and too much time in the sun. He'd come to a short while later and was now sat up in his bed with the others gathered round. The hospital wing was otherwise empty and offered some much-needed privacy for the three to glean further gory details about Remus's condition.  
  
Right, well, that explains your disappearing but you still haven't told us exactly why you hurt yourself like that, Sirius said darkly as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.  
  
I'm locked up and there's no one else to bite, so I don't really have much choice. I don't keep my mind when I change and the wolf I become is very aggressive and vicious. All it knows is that it wants to, even _has to_, bite someone, even if that someone is itself. My arms are the easiest things to reach, so they get the worst of it, Remus explained. He was sat at the foot of the bed with his hands folded in his lap. James was stood at the head, leaning on the bedside table. I remember the werewolf in my old neighbourhood used to lock herself in her house every full moon, he mused aloud, She had iron bars put into the windows and everything. We always used to hear her screaming and howling. Never knew it was because she was biting herself. When I asked how she'd hurt herself one time, she said she'd been careless with her kitchen knife. He winked at Peter.  
  
Remus nodded knowingly. It's a good job we didn't have any neighbours to hear me.   
  
James asked, What did you do before you came here?  
  
Remus traced a wrinkle in the bedclothes with a fingertip. We live on an old farm in rural Yorkshire. It belonged to some second cousin of ours or something. We don't raise livestock or plant crops anymore. Just live in the farmhouse, mostly. Anyway, there's a big barn on the far side of the property. My dad fitted some iron bars to one of the stables and made it into a cage. They locked me in there every full moon.  
  
Sirius uncrossed his arms as if to push off from the wall, but decided against it and simply thrust his hands brusquely into his pockets. And they just left you there in the dark? All by yourself?  
  
It was pretty good arrangement actually, Remus said, shrugging. The barn was far enough away from the farmhouse that they could turn on the radio and not be able to hear me screaming.  
  
Sirius only glared as silence fell over the four, cloaking them in heavy, invisible folds. The quiet was terrible, thick and cloying, like wet wool. Remus felt as though he were being crushed between the choked absence of sound and Sirius's stony gaze. Finally, for the first time since the conversation had been loosed, Peter spoke up.  
  
When you change . . . he began quietly over the rim of his glass which he gripped with white fingers, . . . does it _hurt_?  
  
The simple, softly spoken inquiry whispered over Remus like frost and he shuddered. He looked down at his bandaged arms, testaments to the particular cross he was doomed to bear. His Muggle father had once told him about religion, church and dogma in the non-magic world. He'd said that some Muggles believed that the monstrosities of the world were the work of a figure of the greatest possible evil who reigned in a fiery chasm of torment. Even now, the bandage Remus had lifted lay open before his eyes, the wound beneath it gaping livid red like a keyhole in the doorway to Hell. It's like being burnt alive from the inside.   
  
The silence fell over them again. Peter shifted uneasily beneath the bedclothes with a near inaudible whisper of fabric on fabric.  
  
So . . . what do you do now? When the full moon's out, I mean, James asked, his voice almost tentative, as though he were afraid to break the silence.   
  
Remus smiled grimly. Meet me in the common room with your cloak at midnight and I'll show you.


	3. Part Three: GIBBOUS

**Starcross'd: part 3 (three): GIBBOUS  
  
By:**Fala Reflects The Madness Within Tzipori  
  
**Written:**Summer, 2004  
**Fandom:**Harry Potter  
**Rating:**PG-13  
**Genre:**Romance, Drama, Angst, Humour  
**Pairing(s):**Sirius/Remus, James/Lily  
**Warnings:**slash, strife, a certain fetish of mine making an appearance, smarmy James (well, smarmier than usual), manky two-week old laundry, gratuitous snogging, and a very, VERY assertive Lily.  
**Plot:**The cat is really out of the bag this time, and Sirius throws the towel in. Quite literally, in fact. Remus is out, Sirius and James are egotistical, Lily is comparable to a drill sergeant and Peter is most definitely NOT fat. Really.  
**Spoilers:**None, I do not think . . .  
**Dedications/Thanks:**HUGE thanks to Carlea, über-talented talented writer and grammar-Nazi extraordinaire for beta-ing all ninety seven pages of this shite. Thanks so much, love. You so totally rool.  
**Disclaimers:**The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'll return them before their warranty's spent. Osgood Klee belongs to Carlea (even if I gave him his last name :P) and I have borrowed him, with her permission, from her fic, In Late May.  
**Other comments/schtuff:**n/a  
  
After lunch, the four headed off to History of Magic. Scarcely three minutes had passed since they'd sat down when they began to doze. Sirius was the first to show signs of surrender, but it didn't take long for Remus to begin nodding off as well.  
  
Halfway through the lesson, somewhere in the tedium of Professor Binns's monotonous drone, Remus heard him mention the corner of Fenris and Ulf. This stirred a hint of comprehension in the smog of boredom that had blanketed Remus's mind. He straightened sharply in his seat, making Sirius look up from the picture he'd been absentmindedly doodling.  
  
Fenris was the name of a road in Hogsmeade that met with Ulf street at an intersection. Remus knew this, and he knew the history of the corner where they met.  
  
And can anyone tell me the significance of this particular area with relevance to fairly recent history? Professor Binns droned. And since this is a good stopping place for today, if anyone can tell me, I will end the lesson here and dismiss the class early. Several students perked to attentiveness at that, but the exchange of searching looks between them revealed that they did not have the answer. Remus shifted uncomfortably as Sirius shot him the same questioning look.  
  
When no one showed any sign of knowing the answer, Remus took a deep breath and timidly raised his hand. Professor Binns acknowledged him with a lazy nod. Mr. Lupin?  
  
Remus spoke slowly and clearly. The corner of Fenris and Ulf is where rioters gathered and marched for werewolves' rights in 1961.  
  
Correct, Mr. Lupin. Five points to Gryffindor, Professor Binns said greyly, Class dismissed.  
  
As he put his books in his satchel, Remus received several friendly pats on the back and words of thanks from his fellow classmates en route to the door. James ruffled his hair and Peter gibbered some compliment or another. Sirius clapped him round the shoulders and said Good one, mate! as they left class ten minutes early. We've got time for a round of Exploding Snap before Charms, he offered, grinning boyishly. How about it, Rem?  
  
A glowing joy he hadn't felt in what seemed an eternity was swelling within Remus and he couldn't help but grin in return. 

Echoes flowed, wavelike between them as they made their way through the narrow darkness.  
  
  
  
Sorry . . . Peter's normally small, mousy voice sounded much larger and almost willowy in the black void of the tunnel.  
  
That's the third time, you git! Soon my heel won't have any skin left for you to step on! Sirius's own naturally robust voice was also magnified and made Peter wince in the darkness.  
  
I said I'm sorry. I can't see a thing in this tunnel.  
  
Amazing, all this was built just for you, James commented to Remus, whom he could not see. He gathered the Invisibility Cloak in his arms so it wouldn't drag on the ground. And that definitely explains that Whomping Willow.  
  
Remus nodded, only to realise that James couldn't see him doing it. Dumbledore was appointed Headmaster last year, right? Well, the Headmaster before him told my parents that there was no way a werewolf ever could come to Hogwarts. But when Dumbledore got the job, he sent an owl to my parents. He said that as long as we took some precautions and kept it a secret, there was no reason why I shouldn't be able to come to school. So, he had this tunnel dug, planted the Willow at the entrance so other people couldn't get into it and set the Shack up for me, and that's basically it.  
  
I didn't want to be the only fourteen-year-old first year, so he arranged with the professors to tutor me over the next year, Remus continued. It was pretty hard because I had to learn three years' worth of magic in less than one year. I had a different subject and professor each day of the week for seven hours every day except Sundays. I had it all through the summer, too.  
  
So that's where you get your impeccable work ethic, Sirius commented from somewhere behind him, then groaned. How long is this tunnel anyway?  
  
It's not terribly long, came Remus's answer from somewhere up ahead. His voice bounded along the tunnel walls like a puppy along a fence. It's on the outskirts of Hogsmeade Village closest to the school. It usually takes me about five minutes to get there, so we should be there soon.  
  
  
  
Sorry, James . . .  
  
Sirius growled, We're never going to get anywhere if you people don't pick up your damn feet!  
  
The conversation petered out as they neared their destination.  
  
When they arrived, Remus waited till they had all come through the door before entering and shutting it behind him.  
  
They were greeted by a dark room, scarcely a shade paler than the blackness in the tunnel. Weak whisps of light from the moon strained feebly through the cracks in the boarded-up windows. This did precious little to illuminate their surroundings, but the three newcomers could make out the shapes of a few pieces of furniture. Remus didn't need to see them, for he already knew they were there. He also knew that several of them had been upended. He was the one who had done it.  
  
Remus heard Sirius break off from the group. He could always recognise Sirius's footfalls because he had a very distinctive walk involving long, proud strides and steps that were slightly louder than expected. What is this place, Remus? his voice came floating back to the group.  
  
It's the Shrieking Shack.  
  
There was a dull thud followed by the noise of wood scraping against wood and Sirius swore loudly. He'd jarred his knee on an overturned chair by the sound of it.   
  
James spoke up in the darkness, You mean that old boarded-up house on the outskirts of the village?  
  
Next came Peter's voice, drifting fearfully through the encompassing shadows, But isn't that place is haunted? The villagers say they've heard-  
  
Remus finished matter-of-factly. The screaming and howling they say they hear from this place is all mine. They think it's a ghost, but it's me.  
  
Oh . . . Peter trailed off quietly. James had stepped away to do some exploring himself. Remus heard him and Sirius groping about in the darkness, feeling the walls with their hands, every once in a while bumping against a piece of furniture. Peter stayed right where he was, not wanting his perpetual clumsiness to show itself, even in the dark.  
  
A staircase? James pondered out loud from the other side of the room. There's another floor?  
  
There's a bed room upstairs, Remus said. That's where I usually go first and wait to transform.  
  
One by one, the four made their way up the stairs, gingerly feeling for the edge of each step with their feet. When they were up in the bed room, Remus found the bed and had a seat on the mattress. The springs creaked terrifically beneath him. Peter followed and sat beside him, emitting a little yelp of surprise in the midst of the springs' protest. Ow! Oh, wait a minute . . . he muttered, rummaging in his pyjama pockets till he found what he was looking for. Forgot I had this._Lumos_.  
  
Light emerged in a tidy burst and everyone saw that the source of it was a wand in Peter's hand. Glad it didn't break when I sat on it . . .  
  
Sirius scowled. You might as well have broken it for all the good it did us in the tunnel. Why did you have your wand in your pyjamas anyway?  
  
I like to keep it on me at all times, Peter answered sheepishly. Makes me feel better.  
  
Sirius rolled his eyes, not at all moved and even less forgiving for all the times Peter had stepped on his heel. How can you have mind enough to keep a wand in your pyjamas and not remember it when we need it?  
  
Peter glared at him. Well, at least I had sense enough to bring one at all. If you needed a wand so badly why didn't you think to bring yours? he said darkly. Sirius had the decency to drop the scowl and nod as if to say__.  
  
James interjected to snuff any further bickering. Care to give us a tour, Remus?  
  
Remus blinked and smiled. If you'd like, he said, rising from the mattress, Though there isn't much to see round here. In any case, this is the bed room, he said, making a vague, demonstrative gesture.  
  
So we've noticed, Sirius teased, then adopted a tone much like that of Professor Binns. But what is the significance of this particular area with relevance to your person?  
  
Remus smirked. All right then. Peter, if you'd light the way? Then, by the light of his friend's wand, Remus began pointing out objects of interest. First, the old, cobwebby wardrobe where he stowed his clothes so he wouldn't rip them to shreds when the wolf came. There was a mouldering, moth-eaten duvet on the bed which he wrapped round himself while he waited for the actual transformation. I try to stay up here. That way, the wolf will see the bed and will know it has a place to retreat when the time comes to change back, Remus explained. Waking up on this floor is never pleasant.  
  
The other three looked on as Peter thrust light upon various things at Remus's behest. Sirius, however, was looking at the floor. Dark, crimson pawprint-shaped stains dotted the floorboards, clashing with clawmarks. Some had even made it onto the walls, along with the occasional telltale red splatters that peppered the old wood like birdshot. There were great chunks of wood bitten out of the legs of the bed and wardrobe. One minute, silver sliver of moonlight fell upon one of the red stains on the floor that was shaped like a human hand. Sirius shuddered.  
  
Hoy, Sirius! You coming?  
  
Sirius fairly jumped. He'd become so ensconced in the morbid badges of turmoil and pain boasted by the room, he'd completely missed the other three heading toward the stairs. He promptly dashed to over his friends and followed them downstairs, trying not to think about those red stains, the claw marks and the shy, quiet, odd boy whom he just could not believe was responsible for them.Why do you look at me?  
  
Sirius looked up sharply. He was alone in the Common Room with Remus, collaborating on their History of Magic assignment in the wee hours of the morning. A week had passed since their trip to the Shrieking Shack and Remus had begun to feel more at ease. James was making a point of hanging round him more often than usual, eventually confessing that he found being friends with a genuine werewolf to be bloody nifty. Even Peter was beginning to warm up to him, finally seeming to understand that Remus was Remus, and being a werewolf had nothing to do with it except on that one day each month. Outwardly, Sirius had been the same as ever, but Remus could sense the underlying current of discomfort about his friend whenever he was near. He'd also become a fair bit more distant, at least with Remus and seemed to be making a conscious effort to be wherever the other boy was not. This was no fair bit disconcerting to Remus, especially after what he'd seen in the mirror.  
  
Sirius looked away from Remus, who wasn't glaring, but was not looking very friendly either. I wasn't looking at you, he lied into his book.  
  
You were, Remus nettled, feeling fairly irritated. He did not like being kept up until Dear-Merlin-Above!-o'clock because he'd rather underestimated the time and labour required to complete this assignment. Sleep deprivation made him irritable and Sirius's recent behaviour had been bothering him for the past several days. He put his quill down. You've been looking at me like that all week. Ever since I told you my secret, you've been avoiding me, and when we are together, you're all jumpy and nervous. You've been looking at me like I'm some of sort of monster.  
  
Sirius couldn't respond to that. He'd wanted so say something along the lines of, Well, you_are_a monster, aren't you? but something told him he'd do best to keep his mouth shut. However, Remus seemed to be able to read his thoughts. I'd bet you don't even know what is most harmful to a werewolf, he said.  
  
I do, too! Sirius shot back defensively, Silver, right? Right after the Shrieking Shack, I checked out a book about monsters and read the chapter about werewolves! In truth, he had done so. What he didn't tell Remus was that all that he'd found out had only served to increase his fear. Remus tilted his eyebrow in contempt and made a derisive noise. One chapter is hardly enough to cover it. Even if you did read up on it a bit, you clearly don't know the first thing about my kind.  
  
What is the first thing? Sirius asked stupidly, then immediately regretted it when a hint of cruel triumph flared in Remus's eyes.  
  
I rest my case. And really, Sirius, if you don't understand, why not ask me instead of staring at me like an animal in a zoo?  
  
Sirius felt a surge of guilt lance through him. Remus was his friend, but hadn't his family always told him that werewolves were not to be trusted? That they were vicious beasts who would sooner rip your head off than look at you? He looked up at the other boy and felt rather mollified. If anyone had ever had stamped on his forehead, Remus certainly was not that person.  
  
At the moment, Remus almost didn't look real to Sirius. He was holding out his hand, a pleading gesture, though even Remus himself was not certain why he was doing it. Sirius felt his own hand rising on its own accord to meet that of his friend. Remus held his breath as he watched Sirius extend his hand toward him, then hesitate. Is it contagious?  
  
Remus shook his head. Only if I bite you hard enough to make you bleed. He smiled. It's a condition, but it's not an illness. You can't spread it by sneezing on someone or anything.  
  
Sirius still looked wary. And how do I know you won't bite me right now?  
  
Because I won't, Remus said simply. A lot of people are scared of werewolves because they think we're monsters every day, day and night, but that's just not true. You do have to watch out when I actually change into the wolf, but that's it. The only time I'm a wolf in any shape or mindset is under a full moon. Every other day of the month, I'm just . . . He shrugged.   
  
When Sirius did not show any sign of being convinced, Remus sighed. Look at it this way. You didn't have any idea I was a werewolf till I actually told you. Doesn't that tell you something?  
  
I guess so . . . Sirius said, his voice considerably lighter, but still blemished by skepticism.  
  
Remus knew he should be satisfied with as much, but he wasn't. Thinking quickly, he took out his wand and handed it to Sirius. Here, take this. Now, which is your dominant hand? Sirius held up his right hand, with which he was holding the wand.  
  
You know how to do a Stun Spell, right? Remus inquired and Sirius nodded, his expression quizzical. All right. Now give me your other hand.  
  
Sirius eyed him questioningly, then lifted his hand toward Remus who took it into his both of his own. If you think I look like I'm about to do something funny, you can Stun me. He then brought Sirius's hand to his lips and closed his mouth over the other's boy's wrist.  
_  
What're you DOING?!_Sirius yelled. He tried to jerk his wrist away, but Remus's hands tightened round his arm and held him fast. A stern tilt of the eyebrow quelled any further outbursts from Sirius, who regarded Remus with wide, frightened eyes. Remus looked back at him, his own ochre eyes calm and cool.  
  
Sirius heard only the frenzied whoosh of his breathing till his mind began to register the feeling of Remus's mouth on his wrist. It temperate and wet, ringed with warm lips which baileyed blunt, innocent teeth. His jaws did not grip Sirius's wrist, but cradled it very gently, his hands doing most of the work in holding the arm up. A strange, tingling sensation crept beneath the skin that was placed in the humid confines of that soft, dark mouth.  
  
Sirius then remembered the wand in his free hand and he searched Remus's face for any indication to use it. However, there were no twitches, no muscles quickening beneath skin. No hints of animal instinct flickered in the neutral eyes. His calm expression showed no desire to actually sink his teeth into the vulnerable flesh between his jaws. The only movement that entered the intense tableau was that of Remus's breath, ghosting placidly, eerily over Sirius's skin.  
  
For a moment, the two simply regarded each other in taut silence. Remus could feel the minute, frenzied thrum of Sirius's pulse against his lip as he watched the boy before him. Sirius, for his part, felt as though he were suspended in a nightmare, ghastly possibilities whirling and screaming round him, yet, he did not break away. He simply watched in dumb silence as the Remus held his wrist in his teeth, near motionless in the stew of peril.  
  
Finally, Remus lifted his mouth from Sirius's wrist and let it go. The arm fell limply into place at its owner's side like a lifeless soldier. Remus took his wand back and tucked it away. I've had plenty of chances to bite you, he said simply. If I wanted to, I would have done it by now.  
  
Sirius lifted his wrist so that it was at eye level and stared at it in bewildered silence. Remus's teeth had not left the slightest indent in his skin, let alone drawn blood. He had held the limb in his mouth for a full three minutes without showing even the slightest inclination toward taking a bite out of it. No bloodthirsty monster could have resisted such a temptation and Sirius knew it.  
  
Now do you believe me?  
  
Sirius nodded mutely and his wrist tingled. He then realised that his skin was wet and he grimaced.  
  
Remus extended his hand, smiling hopefully.  
  
Sirius smirked. Sure, but next time, keep your drool to yourself. He bypassed the offered hand and wiped his wrist off on the shoulder of Remus's robes.  
  
They both shared a smile and a laugh and, to Sirius's great surprise, Remus shut his book. Forget this, he said lightly, I'm too tired to do any more. Want to meet at the tree at lunch tomorrow and finish it then?  
  
Sirius smirked, slamming his own book shut, Thought you'd never ask.  
  
They packed up their things and made their way toward the boy's dormitory. Remus suddenly stopped Sirius at the bottom of the staircase. Before I forget, I should correct you, Remus said quietly, Silver can kill me, but the most harmful things to a werewolf are ignorance and misunderstanding.  
  
Sirius blinked dumbly, then grinned and ruffled Remus's hair. Well, I think we've taken care of that now.  
  
That night, Remus lay awake in bed, carefully holding his mostly-healed wrist in his teeth. What had transpired between Sirius and himself in the Common Room had been quietly thrilling for him, even to the extent that he had no desire to visit the Mirror that night. While it was, by no means, a ravishing orgasmic experience, there was something softly erotic about holding Sirius so intimately and tasting his skin. He had been granted this pleasure for a precious three minutes, but the afterglow had followed him into bed. Now, under the cover of darkness, Remus could close his eyes and almost imagine that his wrist was Sirius's own. Remus smiled round his own skin, imagining Sirius trusting him enough to get close to him in such a way. Perhaps, someday, Sirius would trust him enough to get even closer.The next day, Remus and Sirius met under the tree as planned to get their project finished. James and Peter, for lack of anything better to do, joined them. Their class had been instructed to choose a significant historical figure that had attended Hogwarts as a Gryffindor and write a report about her or him. Peter had chosen Nearly-Headless-Nick as his subject and rather than panic over a stack of textbooks, simply got all of his information right from the source. Remus and Sirius both wanted to do a report about Brittany and Bridget Edelweiss, who had shared a fantastic singing career in the late 1800's. Because the Edelweiss sisters were conjoined twins, Professor Binns had agreed to let the two boys work together. James had a fairly interesting project, himself.  
  
Have a looksee at this, he said, grinning broadly as he handed his roll of parchment over to Sirius, who unrolled it and read the title out loud.

**_A History Of How Ace I Am  
by James H. Potter_**_  
(Complete with eight full colour photographs of me on my Cleansweep, being ace)_

Sirius snorted into his sleeve and Remus eyed James strangely. You're not really going to hand that in are you?  
  
James coolly snatched the scroll back. Watch me.The next morning, a beautiful, sunlit Saturday, Remus awoke from a pleasant, dreamless sleep. His eyelids fluttered gently open and his hand ghosted upward to his brow to brush errant bits of hair aside. He took a deep breath, inhaling the soft, clean scent of a new day.  
  
. . . Till a foul odour greeted him by triggering a gagging fit. He threw open the curtains of his bed and staggered out, clutching a hand to his face. Presently, James poked his dark, tousled head out of his curtains, apparently awakened by the commotion, and made a face. Ugh, something in here pongs! he commented in his gruff morning voice. Remus, who had made haste to the window and thrown it open, nodded weakly, slumping against the wall in his faded blue tartan pyjamas.  
  
Peter was up as well, making his bed. He'd tied a pocket handkerchief round his head so that it covered his nose. He waved to get James and Remus's attention and pointed at the mountains of dirty clothes that were heaped to the side of the room.  
  
Right at that moment, Sirius walked in, fresh out of the shower and wearing nothing but a towel round his waist. James smirked as Remus was suddenly fascinated by his toenails.  
  
Bugger me with a broomstick! Sirius exclaimed, clapping a hand over his face.  
  
James laughed. Careful, Sirius, you might give someone ideas! and Remus shot him a dirty look as Sirius lumbered over to the window and gasped for breath.  
  
It stunk when I got up, but, blimey, I must've still been half asleep or something because it just_hurts_me now!  
  
Osgood Klee had awakened at this point and was also visibly repulsed by the smell. I suppose that's what we get for skipping laundry day last week, he said, wrinkling his nose. He then noticed Sirius in his towel and rolled his eyes in a way that clearly said show-off.'  
  
Isn't today laundry day for this week? Remus queried, trying not to look at the damp, near-naked body standing a mere handful of inches away.  
  
Peter nodded and answered from behind his handkerchief, That's right, but I'm not doing it. I did it last time.  
  
S not my go, James said through a yawn, I did it last before Peter.  
  
There was a mutter from Osgood, who was rummaging through his trunk, about it not being his go either.  
  
Remus was about to open his mouth to say it definitely wasn't his go even though he honestly wasn't sure, but Sirius pushed off the windowsill before he could speak. All right, I'll do it. Anything to get it out of here. He went over to his bed and retrieved his wand from underneath his pillow and began magicking all of the foetid clothing into the hamper that was kept in the corner of the room. After that was done and his wand was tucked under his pillow for safekeeping, he picked up the hamper and started for the Portrait Hole.  
  
James eyed his towel-clad friend worriedly. Er, Sirius, are you just going to walk right through school like that?  
  
Sirius laughed and threw his head to the side as he would to toss his hair, which did not happen because it was currently soaking wet and plastered to the sides of his head and neck. Sure, why not? Some of the girls will thank me for it, I'd wager.  
  
With that, he was gone.  
  
While Osgood collected his clothing and headed downstairs for a shower, followed by Peter, James looked over at Remus, his eyebrow at a cocky angle and whistled. Remus actually blushed and lobbed a pillow at James's head. Shut up!  
  
A moment later, Sirius had yet to return, but everyone else was dressed in casual week-end clothes and the other Gryffindors were heading down to the Great Hall for breakfast.  
  
Reeemus, what's the hooold-up? James whined in the style of a three-year-old from the top of the dormitory steps. If we don't get down there soon, there won't be anything left!  
  
Peter made a noise of urgent agreement at James's side. Remus, who was half-hidden under his bed, stuck out an arm and waved at them dismissively. You go on ahead and I'll catch you up. I can't find my tie and badge.  
  
But it's the week-end, Peter moaned, inching toward the staircase. We don't need to wear our robes and ties and stuff when we don't have class.  
  
I know, but when stuff goes missing, I want to find it right away. I hate not knowing where my things are, Remus answered with some effort, hauling himself out from under the bed and dragging his trunk out after him. You go. I'll meet you down there.  
  
James and Peter duly departed and Remus heaved his trunk onto his bed, then sat cross-legged and began to sort through it.  
  
He'd barely begun searching his lacklustre belongings for a hint of scarlet and gold-striped material when he heard hurried footfalls thundering up the staircase. Sirius burst through the door, dragging the empty hamper behind him and holding up his towel - which seemed to have come undone - with his free hand. He was panting in earnest and his face was flushed.  
  
Remus eyed him questioningly. Did you run all the way back here?  
  
Sirius nodded, gasping. McGonagall . . . said it was . . . indecent . . . almost . . . got caught . . .  
  
Remus chuckled in spite of himself. Can't say you wouldn't have deserved it if you did get caught.  
  
Oh, sod off. Sirius had secured his towel and was dragging his own trunk out from under his bed. He retrieved a rugby shirt, pants and some brown slacks, then kicked the trunk back under his bed. He looked up at Remus, suddenly uneasy. Uh, d'you mind?  
  
Remus realised with a start that he'd been staring. Oh, right. Sorry, he half-yelped apologetically and hastily turned so that he faced the other way. Remus's heart raced as he heard the fabric of Sirius's clothes brushing against each other as he dressed. Sirius was sliding into a pair of comfortable-looking slacks just a short ways behind him, pulling a loose-fitting shirt over that smoothly muscled chest . . . Remus felt his face growing warm and wanted to slap himself round the head for it.  
  
Decent now, Sirius's voice drifted across the distance. Remus turned slowly and found even a movement so simple as this to be alarmingly difficult. Why, oh,_why_had he become so tense?  
  
Sirius was fully dressed, and in the midst of pushing his trunk back under his bed. His damp hair mussed from pulling the shirt over his head and his sleeves were rolled up over his arms. Remus found himself lost in awe all over again at those arms, angular and rounded in all the right places with a faint dusting of dark hair. He pulled back one sleeve and looked down at his own arm. It was long, wiry and crisscrossed with scars. As he studied his arm then looked back at Sirius's and looked at his own again, he was filled with a sort of envious shame. He pulled down his sleeve and returned his gaze to Sirius, who was bent over and reaching into the hamper. He pulled out a tie and a badge and something else that he immediately put into his pocket. And, uh, I'm guessing these are yours. They were on your robes.  
  
Oh, thanks. I was just looking for those, Remus said brightly, accepting the tie and badge Sirius handed him. I must've forgotten to take them off last night when I put my robes in the laundry pile. He carefully put the tie and badge into their usual compartment in his trunk, then returned the trunk to its usual place under his bed. When he'd finished, he found that Sirius was still stood by his bed. There's one other thing, he said.  
  
Remus, though still plagued by the proverbial stomach butterflies, managed a casual voice. What is it? He sat on the bed.  
  
Sirius said, flopping back on Remus's bed a little more heavily than was necessary. You're a poof.  
  
The smile fell from Remus's lips like a water droplet from a spigot. Panic beat its thorny wings somewhere in the pit of his stomach. The patterns on the carpet beneath his feet swam before his eyes till he no longer saw them. He steadied himself by clasping his hands in his lap, though he found he could not meet Sirius's eyes. What gave you that impression?  
  
Little birdie told me, Sirius answered, sounding for all the world as though Remus were quizzing him for practice before an exam. It was not a casual matter to Remus, though, and Sirius's carefree attitude was beginning to anger him to the extent that he hurt inside. A little birdie named James Potter, I suppose? he said darkly.  
  
Sort of, Sirius replied, sitting up. He reached into his pocket to extract whatever he'd put there a moment ago. When he brought it out, Remus's eyes widened and his blood ran cold. The parchment James had left him in the hospital wing . . .  
  
That fell out of your pocket when I was getting the badge off your robes, Sirius explained, handing Remus the folded bit of parchment. Remus accepted it mutely, staring at it like it was his death warrant. He knew Sirius was looking at him, expecting something from him, but he simply could not look up in return. He felt shame draping its iron cloak over him and humiliation warming its crucible somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach, making him nauseous. Somehow, Remus felt that it would have been better for Sirius to be shouting, calling him foul names, even physically hurting him than to act like he just didn't care at all.  
  
Well, say something, Sirius said, his voice slightly more urgent. At least look at me. Or is the floor sexier than I am and you'd rather look at it?  
  
Sirius, please . . . Remus managed to utter through a strangled shard of a laugh. Damn you, Sirius, for having a sense of humour in a situation like this,' He thought.He wanted to find the proverbial rock to crawl under and die.His hands were clasped so tightly together they were trembling slightly.  
  
Sorry . . . he heard Sirius say, and he sounded like he meant it. Remus still could not look at him. So . . . Sirius said, at length, Care to explain what James was talking about in that note?  
  
Remus made a short, clipped noise in his throat, struggling to speak against the lump that had formed in it. You're being really nosy.  
  
Sirius snorted. Well, you're the one who said I should ask you things if I didn't understand.  
  
Remus blinked at this and realised Sirius was absolutely right. Besides, he really did have a right to know. What parts do you want to know about?  
  
He felt the shift in limbs beside him as Sirius shrugged. Anything in it that's about me, really. But, for starters . . . Remus's heart began to pound as the other boy inched closer and leaned toward him. He could feel the warmth of Sirius's flesh as if it were against his own. He imagined he could even feel the other's pulse along his own veins. Sirius's outstretched hand entered Remus's downturned line of sight as he reached for the note. As he took hold of the parchment, their fingers brushed. Remus felt a warm shiver at the contact. Sirius either did not notice, or pretended he did not notice. He opened the note and skimmed a few lines with his index fingertip and pointed to_after seeing how nasty you got over the whole thing last night, I've got to say I hope you do land him.  
_  
You got nasty? Sirius queried, Over me?  
  
Remus nodded. James came up to me a while back, saying he knew my secret. I thought he meant . . . well. He faltered as the words stuck in his throat. He just couldn't say it out loud. He meant he knew that I was a werewolf, but I thought he meant . . . about this, and I got really angry at him. I even yelled at him, said some pretty bad things, I suppose.  
  
Like what?  
  
Remus shuddered. I don't want to say. I just got really upset and I wasn't thinking straight.  
  
No pun intended? Sirius snickered. Remus sighed diminutively, somewhere between impatient and amused, then finally looked up at him, though it was out of desperation. This is no laughing matter. Not for me.  
  
The mirth left Sirius's face and he backed off, clasping his own hands between his knees as he propped his elbows on his thighs. he said, his tone a bit more down to earth. Sorry. I didn't know you were so upset about . . . all of this.  
  
Well, I am, Remus said simply, not really knowing how else to respond. He returned his gaze to the floor.  
  
You must really like me a lot if you're so worked up about it, Sirius commented through a sigh. Remus took a deep breath as if praying for strength. He wanted to talk at length with Sirius, to tell him everything that was in his heart. He wanted to tell Sirius of every need, desire and ache the other boy had inspired in his friend. However, he found that all he could manage was a small nod.  
  
It's funny, Sirius mused aloud, How you never really know how much something means to you till you get really upset over it.  
  
Remus toyed with a small rip in his trousers.  
  
In any case, Sirius continued, trying to sound comfortable and considerate at the same time, you probably want to know how I feel about this whole thing, right? Well, to tell you the truth, I really don't know. I've never gone with another boy before.  
  
You haven't ever gone with a girl either, Remus noted timidly, forcing himself to face Sirius. Sirius seemed glad to see Remus actually looking at him. James said so in his note and he's known you longer than I have. Remus went on, feeling a bit bolder, I know that lots of girls like you, but I've never seen you actually have a girlfriend.  
  
Sirius smirked. That's because Sirius Black will never be tied down to one girl! It just wouldn't fair to the rest of them!  
  
Remus said nothing and averted his eyes. His breath hitched when Sirius hooked a finger under his chin and gently tilted his head up. Sirius was grinning thoughtfully and studying Remus's face. Maybe . . . He leaned in till his forehead rested against his friend's. Remus could barely breathe. His heart was beating so furiously that he could feel its cadence resonating at the back of his throat.  
  
Remus gasped softly as Sirius's lips touched him, gently kissing the corner of his mouth, the touch eliciting a rise of warmth and colour in his face. Remus was trembling in spite of himself, lips parted slightly in disbelief. Sirius took advantage of this and kissed him again, this time boldly advancing into the warmth of Remus's mouth. Remus, for his part, wasn't entirely ready for that. However, shock yielded to lustful instinct and he felt himself responding to the kiss, his lips moving against Sirius's, his hand rising boldly to grasp the nape of Sirius's neck. The hand on Remus's chin slid along the soft flesh of his throat to rest beneath his jaw. When they broke apart, Sirius smiled to himself. It could work.  
  
Remus knew he must've been as red in the face as the stripes on tie and he was probably wearing the most drunkenly pleased expression allowed in Hogwarts, but he did not care.  
  
Sirius had kissed him.  
  
He was positively quivering with the thrill and nearly collapsed on himself when Sirius clapped him round the shoulders. Well, I guess that does it, he stated matter-of-factly, getting up and making his way toward the staircase, grabbing his still-damp towel from his bed.  
  
Where're you going? Remus asked, still sat on the bed.  
  
Sirius replied simply.  
  
Remus laughed.   
  
The first one was warm and involved a lot of herbal shampoo. This one's going to be cold. Very cold, Sirius called over his shoulder. Oh and Remus . . . He stopped at the doorway. You're a good kisser, but from now on, let's save it till_after_you've brushed your teeth, all right?  
  
As Sirius disappeared down the stairs, Remus clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a stream of embarrassed swearing.It is too a balanced meal! James was bickering with Peter at the breakfast table, Look, there's fruit in the fruit tart and that takes care of the Vitamin C, the pastry shell has starch, and the glass of milk has calcium and protein.  
  
Peter gave up, but still eyed James's breakfast of a single fruit tart with disapproval then resumed tucking into his own healthy portions of sausages, eggs, fried tomatoes, bacon and toast. So, why you are suddenly going on a diet?  
  
James grinned as he began to cut a slice out of his tiny breakfast. Gotta keep myself sexy. He cocked his head toward the end of the table where a cluster of girls including Lily Evans were sat. And if you don't mind my saying so, Pete, he added as an afterthought, You could do with a little minimising yourself, mon pudding.  
  
Peter reddened beneath a scowl. I am not fat! It's this jumper. He jabbed at thumb at the overlarge, ludicrously purple number he was wearing. It makes me look all poofy.  
  
Fine, you've got fat clothes, but still . . . James trailed off, taking a swig off his glass of milk. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Remus enter the Great Hall wearing a khaki-coloured turtleneck jumper and frayed corduroy trousers. Speaking of_poofy_. . . James muttered, soft enough so as not to be heard by Peter. A minute or so later, Remus sat down next to Peter with a plate full of eggs, fried tomatoes and toast. His face was a smooth mask of forced calm, which suggested he was trying not to grin all over himself.  
  
Morning, Rem! James greeted him cheerfully, by now nearly finished with his fruit tart.  
  
Remus nodded his own greeting to James as he took an enormous bite of toast, and waved with his free hand when Peter said Good morning, as well. He swallowed heavily.   
  
James forked the final bit of fruit tart into his mouth. Is Sirius coming?  
  
Remus took a second to roll this innocent little phrase over in his mind a few times. He grinned very softly.   
  
At that moment, Lily and a girl with curly dark hair got up from the table. James whistled at Lily as she passed. She stopped and regarded James as if he were an oversized slug sat at a breakfast table, then turned on her heel and followed her friend out of the Great Hall.  
  
James made a huffy noise and turned back to his empty plate, which he suddenly seemed to find appalling. Oy, Peter, be a mate and lend us a bite? he said more than asked, not waiting for Peter to answer and snatched a fried tomato off his friend's plate. Peter watched this with mounting objection in his wide eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but James cut him off with a friendly clap on the back. Thanks, you're the best, he said round a mouthful of tomato and helped himself to some of Peter's eggs.  
  
Remus grinned. Tough luck, that, he remarked coolly, jerking his fork in Lily's direction. I suppose you'll just have to find a girl who's got no taste.  
  
Peter grinned snidely as James flipped him off. He tried his luck with Peter's toast only to have his hand pushed away. Aww, c'mon now, Pete, he simpered, his fingers inching toward the toast again. I'm a man and I need breakfast. One fruit tart isn't a man-sized breakfast! Peter smiled and showed his sympathy by stabbing at James's hand with his fork.  
  
A soft, subtle edge of girlish giggling entered into the general hum of the collective chitchat in the Great Hall and James saw that Sirius had arrived. Speaking of_tarts_, he muttered before waving. Hoy, Sirius! Over here, mate!  
  
Sirius took note of the waving and sidled over to his friends. He quite literally_took_a seat between Remus and James, pushing them apart with his knee and muscling in between them. Remus shivered slightly as Sirius's cold, damp hair brushed over his ear. Morning, you lot. He then he turned to Remus and his expression brightened, Say, Rem, how about sharing some of that with a mate? He pointed to Remus's breakfast, half of which was already gone.  
  
Remus raised his eyebrows and his tone was quietly playful. And why don't you get your own?  
  
Can't be arsed. Sirius shrugged, then grinned pointedly at Remus. Besides, we do everything together.  
  
Do we? Remus asked lightly, trying to sound skeptical, though he couldn't help but smile.  
  
But of course.  
  
Peter eyed them strangely as Sirius picked up a piece of bacon with his fingers, took a bite off of one end, then held it out to Remus who smiled and took a bite off the other end. James took the opportunity to filch another tomato off of Peter's plate, then looked curiously at his two friends.  
  
Had Remus . . . ? James suppressed a shudder at the imagery swimming about his head.  
  
As Remus was holding out a forkful of egg to Sirius, Sirius noticed that the girls at neighbouring tables were pointing and whispering. When they noticed he was looking at him, he winked at them._This is going to be fun,'_he thought to himself, then offered Remus some toast with a little more gusto than was necessary.  
  
All throughout the day, Remus and Sirius carried on in this way. Between classes, they followed each other round like puppies. During their lessons, they sat next to each other, suspiciously absorbed in what they were writing. During Transfiguration, James was sat next to Peter in the row behind them and he was watching them closely. He happened to glance under their desktops and saw a bit of parchment flicker between them as Remus passed Sirius a note. He blinked. Remus_never_passed notes. The only thing Remus did during class was feverishly copy down everything the teacher said.  
  
Right at that moment, James received a nudge to the foot and saw a note coming his way from Peter. Pretending to accidentally drop his quill on the floor, he bent under the desk and retrieved the quill with one hand, discreetly snatching the bit of parchment from Peter with the other. When he'd returned to his desktop, he carefully slid the note half under his open textbook so that it looked like he was reading from the pages.  
_  
Remus and Sirius are acting very funny. Any idea why?  
_  
James looked up at Peter whose features had confusion writ largely over them. Something turned over in James's stomach. He felt he probably had a very good idea as to why his friends were acting very funny, but he didn't rightly know if he should share what he knew with Peter and certainly not without asking first. James might not exactly approve of that sort of thing, but it didn't change the fact that they were his friends and he wasn't about to go blabbing on them without their consent. . . . Not on purpose, anyway,' he amended to himself. Even troublemakers have moral values.'  
  
He very quickly scratched a one-word message on the bit of paper with his quill and passed it back under the table to Peter.  
_  
Maybe._  
  
Peter looked questioningly as James, his inquisitive gaze positively grilling the other boy for details, but James mouthed and tilted a brow warningly toward Professor McGonagall. He then went about subtly packing his things up as best he could so that he could leave quickly when the class was dismissed.  
  
When the lesson was over, while Peter was putting his textbook in his satchel and looking the other way, James inconspicuously pushed Peter's inkwell off the desk. Peter jumped at the noise and swore when he saw the glittering black mess of shards and splattered ink. James took advantage of this distraction and jumped up from his chair. When he got to their row, James saw that Remus was about to bend down to help Peter, but Sirius, seeing the meaningful look in James's eyes, stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder. Looking between them quickly, James rattled off, Toilet. No Peter. Now.  
  
Both knew their friend only talked that way when it was important and there wasn't a second to lose. The two hastily scooped up their books, parchments, quills and inkwells in their arms and followed him without question, charging through the other students and making a beeline for the boys' toilet.  
  
Once they were inside and the gaps beneath the stall doors had been checked for feet that might be attached to any unwanted eavesdroppers, James turned to his friends, still panting a bit from the run. So, are you two . . .? he held up his hand and crossed his index and middle finger.  
  
Remus's mouth fell open a bit at that, but Sirius raised his eyebrows and smiled admiringly at his friend. Straight and to the point as always, Jimbo, he commented. Remus looked off to the side. James could see he was trying not to smile.  
  
So you are, then, James confirmed, trying to sound indifferent, though the way he was subtly shifting his weight from his left foot to his right suggested otherwise. That's cool. He shrugged for effect. So what d'we tell Peter?  
  
Remus opened my mouth to speak, but Sirius answered first. Who cares? If he's really our friend he'll be all right with it.  
  
I'd be a bit more careful if I were us. Remus cut in, touching Sirius's arm, Peter is our friend, but he's not exactly . . . well, reliable. I think we should know how he feels about this sort of thing before we tell him. When Sirius eyed him impatiently, Remus added, I speak from experience, an apologetic tone edged into his voice as he looked at James, If I had a choice, I'd have liked you not to have found out. I can tell you don't like it.  
_  
Ouch_. James stared guiltily at his feet. You're right, I don't like it. But you're my friends so I can deal with it. He looked up and smirked. You can return the favour by keeping the goo-eyes and full-frontal snogging to a minimum when I'm within fifty cubic feet.  
  
Fair enough, said Remus, immediately putting a placating hand on Sirius's shoulder when he looked as if he were about to object. So, the idea is to find out how Peter would react if he thought Sirius and I were going out.  
  
They all thought for a moment in silence. Sirius leaned backward against a sink, craning his neck so that his longish hair ghosted darkly over his shoulders. Remus fell into a relaxed slump against the wall and traced the caulking between the tiles with a fingertip. James crossed his arms and stared pensively round the room. Whether the other two knew it or not, he had his own reasons for doubting Peter with sensitive information . . . All at once, inspiration flickered in his hazel eyes. I've got it!  
  
Remus positively chirped and Sirius looked expectantly at his friend. James grinned wildly. Let's just say I've lifted that rule about snogging at least until the end of Defence . . .  
  
After hurriedly eating their lunch and successfully evading Peter as they did so, the three trooped off to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom a few minutes early. Relieved to find that Professor Ayne had not yet come in, they all took seats next to each other in the front row and saved one for Peter, deliberately sitting him between James and Sirius.  
  
You ready? James asked of the other two. They grinned, Remus a trifle nervous, but excited and Sirius worryingly eager, and nodded. Right, get by the desk then and I'll stand watch.  
  
In a moment, they were in position. Remus and Sirius were leaning casually against the desk and James was stood by door, peeking out into the hallway. He chanced a glance over at the two in time to see Sirius clasp Remus's hand bracingly. He quickly returned his gaze to the hallway and saw four of their classmates, not one of which was Peter, approaching.  
  
Someone's coming! He hissed across the room and the two looked up sharply. You'll need to improvise till Peter gets here.  
  
Remus and Sirius looked faintly panicked, but nodded and turned to each other.  
  
Let's play Truth-or-Dare, Sirius said loudly just as Mhairi Stewart, Blaire Ingle, Hans Eberhart and Simon McKollic came into the room, passing James who nodded his hello to each of them.  
  
Right, sounds like fun, Remus agreed. He turned to the others. Want to play? James'll keep watch and warn us when Professor Ayne is coming.  
  
The others happily joined in and they got a very enjoyable game started. They all oohed and aahed appreciatively as Blaire went up to the hinkypunk tank in the left corner of the room, reached into the creature's magic-made paludal environment and deftly snatched the lantern from its hand. They applauded when Mhairi and Simon ran out into the hall and danced a jig whilst singing an obscene song about hedgehogs being the world's most virginal creatures. They all howled with laughter when Hans, upon being dared to do so by Sirius, drew a picture of Snape in a hot tub full of bacon grease. More students trickled in and joined in the game till almost the entire class, except Peter, had assembled.  
  
Finally, just after Hans had dared Gillian Moore to trade pants with Andreas Glove, James strode briskly toward the cluster of young persons as the front of the room. Mind if I join in? I've a got a dare for Remus, he said, covertly throwing a meaningful look at Sirius and Remus. Cottoning on immediately, Remus smiled. Sure. Do your worst,_Jimbo_.  
  
James smirked, I'll make sure it's an absolute stinger just because you called me that. He squared his shoulders and raised his eyebrows. Remus Lupin, I dare you to- The door opened behind them with a minute creak.  
  
Am I late? squeaked a familiar voice, shrill with dread. Everyone turned to see Peter entering the room. Sirius and Remus waved at their friend. Don't wig out, mate, we're early, James explained, gesturing dismissively. Just playing a little Truth-or-Dare before Ayne comes in. Wanna play? It's my turn and Remus is in the hot seat.  
  
Er, no thanks, Peter shook his head. He was not the outgoing sort, so games such as this really did not suit him.  
  
All right, well, feel free to be a spectator then, James said cheerfully. We've bagsied you a seat by us, he informed his friend, indicating the seat they'd claimed for him in the front row. Peter made his way over to the offered chair, gave it the usual one-over, then sat.  
  
Right, then, James said, returning his attentions to Remus. Remus Lupin, I dare you to kiss Sirius Black.  
  
The other students exchanged varying looks of shock, disgust and amusement and a few hissed whispers at one another as they stared between the two in question. Remus looked effectively surprised, but Sirius merely raised his eyebrows and smirked. All right then, Jimbo, he said. If that's what floats your boat.  
  
Oh shut up, you prat, James said, And no pecking or quick stuff. I wanna see some tongue here, so make it good.  
  
At that, the others were beginning to chatter and snicker animatedly amongst themselves. They knew they were in for quite a show. Remus thought he even heard a few of them commenting on breakfast that morning and he smiled ever so slightly. He turned to Sirius. Right, then. Black, desk. Now.  
  
Sirius resisted the urge to laugh at Remus's pompous, military-esque tone and obediently bent backward over Professor Ayne's desktop, which was the only one in the room that was big enough for the purpose. He braced himself with his elbows as Remus leaned over him, standing on tiptoe to accommodate their height difference and supporting himself with his hands planted on the desk. He lowered his lips onto Sirius's waiting mouth and their classmates broke out into applause and cheers. Their volume escalated when Sirius lifted his leg and draped it over Remus's lower back for a finishing touch, pulling him closer still.  
_  
WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!_  
  
Everyone jumped and whirled round. Professor Arbroi was stood in the classroom doorway, glaring at the two bent over Professor Ayne's desk and looking absolutely livid. Remus and Sirius sprang apart. Sorry, Professor, Sirius said quickly, Just playing Truth-or-D-  
  
Silence, Black! Arbroi snapped. The entire class scrambled to their seats as the tall, angular woman strode briskly toward the front of the classroom, her clubfoot doing little to hinder her menacing appearance. This sort of display is not written in any rules that I know of, she started fiercely, turning to face the class once she'd reached the desk, which she seemed loathe to touch. But I do not believe I am out of line in taking thirty-five points from Gryffindor for inappropriate conduct. She rounded on the four friends sat in the front row as if daring them to object. They all remained silent and perfectly still in their seats.  
  
A girl named Aimee Green in the row behind them timidly queried, Please Professor Arbroi, where is Professor Ayne?  
  
Professor Ayne had to leave on business with the Ministry of Magic, so I will be teaching your class today, Arbroi answered beadily. I shall not be happy to inform him of what I have seen just now, but I'm afraid I must. She rounded on the four again, though specifically on one of them. And honestly, Mr. Lupin, I would have expected a great deal more common sense from you, of all people.  
  
When the lesson was over, the students poured out of the classroom in a talkative mass.  
  
Merlin all-mighty, someone needs to yank out whatever pole Arbroi's got lodged up her-  
  
I didn't know Ayne was an Auror! Even just an Auror in training . . .  
  
You'd think he was too . . . You know,_floofy_to be one!  
  
Can you_believe_the assignment Arbroi's given us?!  
  
Two rolls of parchment!  
  
Toward the rear of the crowd, James, Peter, Remus and Sirius were engaged in their own conversation.  
  
Well, that went well, James remarked, though it was difficult to tell whether he was being sarcastic or not. He was feeling rather guilty at having forgotten to resume his watch at the doors after he'd announced his dare.  
  
Thirty-five points is going to hurt our chances at winning the house cup, Peter commented glumly. James, Sirius and Remus all felt like slapping themselves upside their respective heads. Between the ire of Professor Arbroi and all the commotion their little stunt had caused, they'd completely forgotten about Peter! Also, after their encounter with a teacher, James's personal qualms about Peter had deepened to the point that he privately thought that Peter shouldn't know about the other two's new relationship at all.  
  
Sirius clapped Peter round the shoulders and said in a buoyant voice, Sooo, Pete what'd you think of our little snogfest?  
  
Peter seemed slightly mollified at this and he all but squeaked, Er . . . I dunno.  
  
Aw c'mon, don't you think Rem an' me would make a right corking couple? Sirius wheedled, releasing Peter. A split-second later, Remus yelped in surprise as he received a smart slap on the rear.  
  
Uh . . . As Peter was opening and closing his mouth, trying to say something intelligible in response, an enraged voice rang out behind them.  
_  
JAMES POTTER ! ! !_  
  
The four stopped, and James broke out into a grin upon hearing the familiar voice. He turned round, running a hand suavely through his hair. Wotcha, Evans.  
  
Lily was storming towards the four, her face red with fury. Really, how low can you get?! Daring them to put on a stunt like that, and in a_classroom!_On a_teacher's_desk!  
  
Oy, don't give him all the credit, Sirius cut in sounding affronted, pointing at himself and Remus. We're the ones who did the actual work!  
  
Shut up, Black, I'll get to you in a minute! Lily snapped without looking away from James. You, Potter, are an insult to your House, putting ideas in their heads like that! If I didn't mind sinking to your level, I'd slap you into next week! She rounded on Sirius. And you, Black, are an arrogant prat. Constantly dogging Severus is not going to win you any popularity contests. And what you did to his hair was just cruel.  
  
You know, Evans, when you're right, you're right and you're right, Sirius said, nodding sagely. I should've gone with green. It suits a slimeball like him.  
  
James snickered and Lily shot them each a filthy look before turning on Remus, who actually flinched at her tone. As for you, Lupin, I think what Professor Arbroi said covered it. I know you've got a brain in your head and for your own sake, I hope you use it the next time one of these gits tries to get you to put on another disgusting display like that.  
  
As she turned to leave, she called acidly over her shoulder. And thanks very much for losing us thirty-five points. Good day, gentlemen! With that, she stormed off. Peter watched her go, his mouth hanging open. James scowled haughtily and crossed his arms over his chest. Remus seemed to be caught between the traumas of having his rear slapped and Lily's tirade. Sirius called cheerfully after her, You're welcome!  
  
As they started on their way down to the Great Hall for dinner, Sirius noticed the forlorn, abashed look on Remus's face and clapped him on the back. Aw, c'mon, we'll win the points back. Lighten up! Besides, he leaned in close to Remus and whispered, mission accomplished.  
  
Remus frowned and whispered back, What're you talking about? We never got any sort of a reaction out of him.  
  
Not out of Peter, Sirius agreed, looking over his shoulder and making sure James and Peter were far enough away that they wouldn't hear. But we did get a pretty good reaction out of someone else. Now, we do know how dear Miss Evans feels about our disgusting display'.  
  
Remus blinked at this realisation.   
  
Are you okay? Sirius asked, touching Remus's arm tentatively. He sounded like he was trying to be caring without sounding too un-masculinely concerned. Does it bother you? That she said it was disgusting', I mean.  
  
Not really. Remus shook his head. He then smiled a bit. I just don't much like being yelled at is all. He looked up at Sirius. Why? Does it bother you?  
  
Sirius grinned and shook his head, his hair swinging smoothly about his ears. Not a bit. I don't give a flying arse what anyone thinks. He paused thoughtfully, considering what he'd just said. Not if it's bad, he ammended quickly.  
  
Remus laughed, Sirius's hand still on his arm as they headed down to dinner.That night, Remus lay awake in his bed, far too content to sleep. One would think that feeling satisfied and at peace with the world would help one to sleep more easily. Remus, however, had been troubled his entire life and, between the coming of the full moon and worries at being discovered, there was almost never a night when he did not climb into bed without a worry of some sort nagging at him. He'd grown quite accustomed to falling asleep with troubles of all sorts hanging over him. However, now it was different. He'd garnered three kindred spirits, shared the burden of his affliction with all of them, and just now begun to share his heart with one of them. Climbing into bed and feeling so free was all very new and strange to him. He liked it.  
  
He jerked, startled when he felt his mattress shift beneath a new arrival. Grinning, he whispered softly into the darkness.   
  
The familiar voice answered him softly, roguishly.   
  
Remus's heart felt light and fluttery as an autumn leaf as Sirius slipped under his duvet and inched closer to him, close enough to just brush his lips over Remus's ear. I've brushed. Hope you have, too.  
  
It was all Remus could do to hold back a train of giggles that was jammed at the back of his throat. Boys don't giggle, he reminded himself and answered, I have.  
  
Shush, not so loud, Sirius reprimanded, his voice almost seductively quiet as his lowered his lips onto Remus's own. They kissed very slowly and softly so as to make as little sound as possible. Remus tempered his breathing to a near inaudible volume and Sirius did the same. It was all very beautiful to the both them, not seeing each other, barely hearing each other, simply_feeling_.  
  
Remus sighed into a mouth he could not see as it worked against his own. He lifted his hands into the darkness, reaching for soft hair he could only trust was there. His fingers found their mark and gloried in the sleek, brushstroke texture they encountered.  
  
When they broke apart, Remus could tell that Sirius was looking down at him, trying to see him through the darkness. Remus couldn't see at all, and his blindness only heightened his tactility. The weight of an arm came to a rest across his waist, promptly followed by the palm of a warm hand with five points of concentrated heat, fingertips pressing against his hip. The lips returned, this time to prey on his neck and he arched into the blossoming warmth of the touch.  
  
Sirius was lost in the impenetrable blackness, yet he was inescapable. Black was all round Remus, enveloping him, invading him. It had the hushed quality of fresh snow and the heavy warmth of a humid summer's day. It was cloying, terrifying and beautiful.  
  
As Sirius's actions slowed, Remus slid his hands beneath Sirius's shirt, running them along the length of his back. His palms and fingertips delighted in the smooth, firm warmth they encountered in the dip between his shoulderblades, the arching channel of his spine, the contours of his hips.  
  
Remus's lips were taken once more for a final good-night kiss. See you tomorrow, then, Sirius whispered dreamily from far away. The mattress shifted for a moment, then became torturously still as Sirius gingerly lifted his weight from it and Remus heard him padding quietly back to his own bed.  
  
A cruelly empty darkness sprawled before Remus's eyes and he longingly stared into it till sleep took him, searching it for a hint of black. 


	4. Part Four: FULL

**Starcross'd: part 4 (four): FULL  
  
By:**Fala Reflects The Madness Within Tzipori  
  
**Written:**Summer, 2004  
**Fandom:**Harry Potter  
**Rating:**PG-13  
**Genre:**Romance, Drama, Angst, Humour  
**Pairing(s):**Sirius/Remus, James/Lily  
**Warnings:**slash, strife, Lily actually being civil to James, Peter/Sirius (but only in you stand on your head and squint), gratuitous boyish wrestling, Peter-ly whinging and more of the biting fetish! Yay!  
**Plot:**James has no faith in Peter, Peter has no faith in himself, and Sirius and Remus have oodles of faith (among other things) in each other.  
**Spoilers:**None, I do not think . . .  
**Dedications/Thanks:**HUGE thanks to Carlea, über-talented talented writer and grammar-Nazi extraordinaire for beta-ing all ninety seven pages of this shite. Thanks so much, love. You so totally rool.  
**Disclaimers:**The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'll return them before their warranty's spent. And I sort of borrowed a line from_Velvet Goldmine_:P  
**Other comments/schtuff:**n/a  
  
Over the course of the next week, it seemed every moment Remus spent near Sirius was swept up in a haze of meaningful looks, soft touches and quickening pulses. It almost made Remus forget about the full moon all over again.  
  
On the morning preceding his return to the Shrieking Shack, he and Sirius were walking down to the Great Hall for breakfast along with James and Peter. James, Sirius and Remus were all engaged in plotting yet another Snivellus prank while the fourth member of their party walked alongside them in silence. Peter, for his part, had grown painfully curious over the past few days. James had not given him an answer as to why Sirius and Remus were acting so oddly, so he had taken to watching them carefully out of the corner of his eye. Every observation brought with it a new question that he had been too shy to ask. Now, however, as he watched Sirius chatting animatedly and touching Remus on the arm rather frequently, he could stand it no more.  
  
Sirius felt an inquiring tap on the shoulder from behind. He stopped and turned to find Peter looking quizzically at him. Er, Sirius? Can I have a word?  
  
Sirius blinked, a bit surprised. Sure, I guess. He turned to James and Remus. Be right back.  
  
James and Remus looked strangely at Sirius and Peter, then nodded. Peter motioned to the boys' toilet and Sirius followed him inside.  
  
After making certain they were alone and there was no one in the stalls, Peter spoke.  
  
So, I was curious . . . he began, toying with the hem of his shirt and trying not to look at Sirius. Are you and . . . Er . . .  
  
Sirius said more than asked, smirking. You want to know about me and Remus, right?  
  
Peter nodded shyly, though he was slightly relieved. Sirius wasn't beyond making a joke, even if it was at his own friend's expense. He'd poked fun at Peter on more than one occasion, but Peter always felt like he could talk to him because Sirius Black was one boy who was never embarrassed to talk about anything. He also prided himself on honesty and while he was rather complacent, his way of conversing had that comfortable, boyish feel to it that made him the ideal person for what would otherwise be an awkward discussion.  
  
He casually slid his hands into his pockets and leaned against the wall. So, what do you want to know?  
  
Peter shrugged, trying to make light of the situation as Sirius seemed to do. Are you . . . well,_bent?_  
  
Sirius grinned. He found the way slang varied from person to person genuinely interesting. Dunno, Pete, he said truthfully. But the other day, Rem said he fancied me and it got me thinking. I mean, let's face it; a snog is a snog no matter who you get it from. Though quite frankly, he's better than any girl I ever had. He laughed at the face Peter made, then continued, Anyway, I guess I'm bisexual, if it comes to that. But that's a really stupid-sounding word, he mused out loud, thinking for a moment. I like girls, but I like him, too. I like him a lot more than I've ever liked anyone. He's the exact opposite of everything I really hate and I can actually see myself in a long-term relationship with him, which hasn't ever happened with anyone else. Maybe I'm Remussexual. He laughed again. Peter laughed a bit as well, finding the idea fairly amusing.  
  
So, it's just because of him that you decided you liked boys?  
  
I don't think it was a decision as much as a discovery, Sirius said almost chidingly. And I don't know, really. I guess the more I think about it, the more I say, Birds, blokes, they're all great.' I suppose it's a best-of-both-worlds thing.  
  
That makes sense, I guess, Peter said, beginning to understand and finally feeling brave enough to look at Sirius.  
  
And if you really think about it, Sirius continued, boys don't expect as much from you as girls do and they're not as tetchy, you know? Like, I don't think I have to worry about Remus asking me Does this dress make me look fat?'.  
  
Peter laughed a bit, but shifted uneasily.  
  
There's lots to appreciate about boys that they just don't see in each other because they're so busy looking at girls, Sirius continued, not noticing his friend's discomfort. After all, there's something very sexy about big hands and a strong jaw if you get my meaning. He slid a licentious grin toward Peter and patted him on the cheek. A brief, awkward pause hovered between them.  
  
Er, Sirius, Peter squeaked, suddenly apprehensive, y-you don't fancy me, do you?  
  
Sirius raised an eyebrow and gave Peter a long look. Oddly enough I don't, now feck off.  
  
James and Remus were waiting a short ways down the hall from the toilet when Peter rejoined them. James asked, Where's Sirius? Is he coming?  
  
Peter made a face. Funny you should say that. He said to tell you he'd be out in a few minutes, just as soon as he finished his wank.  
  
James made a noise of revulsion and Remus rolled his eyes. I do hope he was joking.  
  
Peter opened his mouth to say something, but right at that moment, Sirius came out, a rather cocky grin slapped over his face. Remus assessed him as he rejoined the group and was a bit relieved to find that he did not look as though he'd been up to anything funny.  
  
Shall we, then? Sirius said brightly, and the four resumed the trip down to the Great Hall. Sirius walked a bit faster than the others so that he was a bit ahead of them. Remus picked up the pace a bit to catch up with him and Sirius grinned to himself._Perfect_.  
  
As they rounded the bend into a fairly crowded hallway, many heads turned. A few giggles and even more whispers could be heard. Sirius coolly brushed a stray hair from his brow then very deliberately grabbed Remus's hand.  
  
Remus hissed, glancing round him warily, People are going to see . . . !  
  
  
  
Remus blinked, looking quizzically at Sirius.  
  
I_want_them to see us, Sirius affirmed, grinning wickedly. I want them to look at us and say, Look, there's Sirius Black, heart-throb of Gryffindor House and his_boy_friend!'. He winked at Remus then returned his gaze to the world at large, every once in a while flashing a haughty smile at a staring classmate, his head held high and at a jaunty angle. Remus smiled softly in return and straightened himself to his full hieght and confidence. They walked on, passing numerous gawkers as they continued on their way, hand in hand.  
  
Peter and James were walking a short ways behind them and had seen the whole thing. They're very brave aren't they? Peter murmured softly, almost reverently.  
  
Yeah, they are, James muttered, directing his attention elsewhere. A pretty face framed by bright auburn hair was at the receiving end of his admiring gaze. When she noticed she was being stared at, Lily Evans scowled in James's direction, then looked away. Her hair flashed a brazen bronze colour in the sunlight that streamed in through the narrow window. It was as if defiance was written over her every feature.  
  
James made a derisive noise and gave Peter a sharp shove from behind. Come on, he grumbled, proceeding moodily down the hallway.  
  
He'd been so preoccupied with Lily that it took him a full five minutes to register the significance of what Peter had said. By that time, they were all sat at the table, James and Peter across from Remus and Sirius, and tucking into their respective breakfasts. James was lifting a sausage to his mouth when realisation hit him: In bathroom that morning. Peter must have asked. And Sirius had told him. Peter knew.  
  
Sirius nudged his best friend. You okay?  
  
James jerked out of his thoughts and saw that he'd just dropped his sausage. It's nothing, he muttered, picking up the sausage and cramming it into his mouth. While he finished his breakfast and tried to ignore the various exchanges between the pair and the whispers that were rising from the rest of the student body in response, James came to a decision. He had to speak to Evans.  
  
After their Herbology class, James hurried ahead of his friends to find Lily. She was nothing short of brilliant when it came to Charms, mastering everything almost instantly and even reading her Charms textbook in her spare time in order to learn new ones. Because of this, in Lily's first year, Professor Twideon had allowed her to advance to a higher class and take Charms with the second-years. She was now a fourth-year taking the class with the fifth-years and she probably knew more Charms than anyone in Gryffindor House, so she was just the person James needed to see.  
  
When he finally caught sight of her red hair from across the hallway, he called out,  
Evans! Hey, Ev- Lily! Lily', he reminded himself firmly. Her name is Lily.'  
  
She finally stopped and turned, only to frown when she saw who was calling her. What do you want?  
  
When he caught up to her, he said, Lily, can I have a word? He looked over at her friends, who were waiting a few steps ahead. She narrowed her eyes at him, emerald irises dark with skepticism. This had better be good, Potter. She turned to her friends. Go on, I'll catch up.  
  
As her friends turned to leave, James looked round for a place where he might talk to Lily away from prying ears. Seeing none, he decided he'd dart into an empty classroom if he saw one in passing and said, Er, will you walk with me?  
  
Lily said nothing, but flanked him stiffly as he continued down the halls. Fortunately, he didn't have to wait long for an empty classroom because he happened upon the Arithmancy classroom just as the sixth years were leaving, their teacher, Professor Adon, following them. With both the students and the professor gone, the room was empty, so James ducked inside, holding the door for Lily, who followed him.  
  
Once they were inside and the door was shut, she eyed him impatiently and he finally said, I need a favour.  
  
Lily raised an eyebrow, the tiny movement dripping with dislike. You know, I've heard a lot of bad lines before, but --  
  
It's nothing like that! James cut in, suddenly very nervous. And it's not for me. It's for Peter.  
  
Lily's expression softened a bit. For him?  
  
James nodded. What do you know about Memory Charms?  
  
Lily blinked, surprised. I know how to do a few. Nothing too advanced, but I'm pretty good with some of the simpler ones. I'm not really supposed to know about them at all. You have to have a licence from the Ministry of magic to use them. I was just poking about the Restricted Section in the library when I was doing that report on the Devil's Snare for Herbology and I happened to see a book on them while I was there. I kind of snuck it out, she admitted, a shy smile creeping over her lips. James felt something warm flutter in his heart. She always looked so much prettier when she smiled.  
  
Anyway, why d'you want to know about Memory Charms? she inquired. What, did you do something stupid in front of Peter and want him to forget it?  
  
Nothing like that, James said, shaking his head. He just knows something I don't think he should and I think it'd be best if he'd never found out about it.  
  
How long ago did he learn this? Lily asked.  
  
Two or three days ago, probably. Maybe four or five, James said.  
  
Lily nodded. I think I can do it, then. The newer the memory, the easier it is to erase.  
  
James nodded, How soon can you do it?  
  
I can do it today if you can get me alone with him, Lily said proudly.  
  
James felt relief sweep over him and was seriously considering thanking her on bended knee when she suddenly asked. So, what does he know?  
  
James did a double-take and fumbled for excuses. Er, d'you really have to know?  
  
I have to know what I'm supposed to be erasing from his memory don't I? Lily said, her eyes wide in Hello-Captain-Obvious way. I can't just go and wipe his whole mind blank. He'll be wandering round like a zombie and then there'll be questions.  
  
Oh crap. James hadn't thought of that. Now he'd have to tell her about Remus and Sirius. If she didn't know already, of course. The snog over Ayne's desk had been a dare and nothing more and she was a smart enough girl to know that. However, they had been parading their relationship round the school rather obviously as of late, smiling affectionately, touching each other more often than was necessary and, worst of all, walking to and from class hand in hand. They made it almost painfully obvious.  
  
She added, crossing her arms in a fairly contemptuous manner. I'm not so sure I want to do this. Messing about with someone's mind is a pretty sleazy thing to do. Especially when that someone is a really good friend of yours.  
  
James felt himself quaking beneath her dissapproving stare. Oh, crap, indeed. Er, well, he began lamely. Y'know Sirius and Remus?  
  
Of course I know Sirius and Remus, Lily said, sounding slightly exasperated. Sirius is the braggart that all the girls drool over and Remus . . . She hesitated. He's all right when he's not acting stupid for you. She smirked at James.  
  
Right, well, James said, forcing out the words and feeling a pang of shame that he was so repulsed at them. They're, uh, they're going out. With each other.  
  
Lily took a second to process this news and frowned incredulously. You mean, like,_going out_, going out. James nodded, making a face.  
  
But I thought that whole thing in Defence was just a dare, a joke. You know, Lily fumbled for words. I mean, Sirius is constantly showing off and flirting with the girls . . . she glared accusingly at James. Are you taking the mickey?  
  
I'm not, I swear! James said urgently. He then explained that the Truth-or-Dare thing was all part of a plan to see how Peter felt about the whole idea. As he relayed the whole story, he felt mild resentment rising in his tone. The Quidditch tryouts had come and gone and he'd gotten his wish, and just yesterday, he'd caught the Snitch in the first Quidditch game of the year. He failed to be unfazed at the fact that Gryffindor now had a brand new Seeker who'd fetched them a new victory, yet his friends were getting more attention than he was. He was a bit bitter about the whole thing, really. In more childish terms, it just wasn't fair.  
  
Lily took in James's every word, working her fingers along a fold in her robes. I see, she said pensively when he'd finished. So why is it so important that Peter forgets he knows?  
  
Because I'm really worried about Sirius and Remus. James admitted and explained. This sort of thing could really get them in trouble. Peter's thick, but he's got this cunning in him that's a bit scary sometimes. He's the sort of person you don't tell your secrets to because he'll use it against you if he has to. Like in first year, well . . . He hesitated for a moment. I kind of had a bit of a crush on Professor Twideon. James grinned sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. Lily tittered gently. I told Peter and he was all right with it. Then, later on, we had a big row-  
  
Over Twideon? Lily asked, unable to keep from grinning. Did he fancy her too or something?  
  
Nothing like that, James said, staring guiltily at the floor, He got really angry at me because I made some comment about how he couldn't ever hope to play Quidditch because he was so fat the broom wouldn't hold him.  
  
Lily snorted, Well, I think I'd be pretty angry, too. She raised her eyebrows. I'd probably have thumped for that if it were me.  
  
James nodded. Right, well, he was so angry at me, the next day he told Twideon I fancied her right in front of the whole Charms class, James winced at the memory. It was humiliating.  
  
Lily actually nodded sympathetically. That would be pretty embarrassing, she admitted. I'm guessing Twideon gave you a detention.  
  
Of course, James said. She gave us both detention because Peter was out of line sharing things that were none of his business and because a student fancying his teacher was_presumptuous and rude'_.  
  
Lily made a face. James continued, It took a while, but I guess Peter and I decided that I'd got him where it hurt - he was really sensitive about his weight back then - he'd got me where it hurt, and we were even, so we made up and went back to being friends. But it was still really awful. Everyone was taking the mickey out of me for the rest of the year about it.  
  
And you don't want anything like that to happen to Remus and Sirius, Lily concluded.  
  
James confirmed. Something like that could be really awful for them.  
  
Lily nodded, then added, Wait a minute. Does anyone else know about this? About them being a couple, I mean?  
  
James shrugged. I dunno, he said. Well, I'm guessing a lot of the school knows about it. I mean, Sirius hasn't been shy about it at all. You know what an attention slut he is, and I think he's rubbing off on Remus. They're not keeping it very quiet and I don't know whether people know they're really together or they think Sirius is just arsing about.  
  
Well, that's not good, Lily said, frowning. Let's say I do perform the Memory Charm on Peter. If everyone else does know about them, don't you think it'll eventually get back to him?  
  
I don't think so, James said, shaking his head. Peter's not very popular. He never hangs round anyone but me, Sirius and Remus. Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen anyone else ever talk to him. Not unless they were taking the mickey, that is.  
  
Lily raised her eyebrows and a sympathetic half-smile tipped her mouth. She thought for a moment, then nodded decisively. All right, I'll do it.  
  
Thank you, James said, gratitude making him sound more sincere than Lily had imagined he could ever be.  
  
You're welcome, she said. You'll just need to tell Sirius and Remus two things; First of all, they're going to have to stop flaunting their gayness or whatever it is they're doing. I don't want to have to do this more than once, as it's quite illegal. Second, be sure to tell them they're very lucky.  
  
James looked her curiously.   
  
She smiled and touched his shoulder. To have a friend like you.  
  
He watched mutely as Lily turned and strode out the classroom, his mouth agape and his shoulder tingling.

That evening, James passed Madam Pomfrey in the hall and she stopped him. Are you on your way up to Gryffindor Tower?  
  
I am.  
  
Would you kindly ask Mr. Lupin to meet me at the castle entrance within the next few minutes? she requested, His grandmother is ill and I'm to see him off to the train station.  
  
I'll tell him, James promised, trying not to sound as smug as he felt lest Madam Pomfrey become suspicious._He_knew where Remus was really going and it wasn't to see his grandmother, unless it meant seeing his grandmother in the My, what sharp teeth you have! sense. James grinned to himself as he continued down the hall.  
  
When James reached the Portrait (dragon tails) and went inside, he found the Common Room nearly empty. He vaguely wondered where Peter was before he remembered that Peter had a detention to serve for talking back to Twideon during Charms. He'd most definitely accused Twideon of playing favourites when their essays had been handed back with their marks written on the top. If James recalled correctly, the boy's precise words had been bloody nepotist. He shook his head, grinning at the memory. Perhaps he and Sirius were finally rubbing off on dear Mister Pettigrew.  
  
A trio of third-year girls were sat at a table and all of them were trying not to look at Remus and Sirius, who were sharing an armchair by the fire. Remus had his glasses on and was reading, one of his legs draped over Sirius's knee. Sirius was resting his chin on one hand and staring sleepily into the fire, the fingers of his other hand absentmindedly drawing nonsensical patterns on Remus's thigh. James felt a trace of nausea stirring in his stomach. This would take some getting used to. He cleared his throat and Remus looked up from his book. Hello, James, he said with a friendly smile. Sirius said.  
  
Er, Madam Pomfrey's waiting for you, James informed Remus. A pale shudder passed faintly over Remus's features, but he brushed it off and closed his book. All right, He said mildly, removing his glasses. He lifted his leg from Sirius's knee and made to rise from the chair.  
  
Sirius latched onto the edge of his shirt to stop him. Remus stopped and turned back to Sirius who pulled him down and gave him a light kiss on the lips. See you, then. Remus smiled and brushed his fingers briefly over Sirius's jaw, then headed out. The girls at the table watching him with utter loathing in their eyes as he went. When he was gone, Sirius lifted his feet from the floor and stretched his legs out over the chair, flopping back into a reclining position.  
  
Uh, Sirius? James said, feeling strangely as if he were intruding. Can I have a word?  
  
Sirius raised his eyebrows. Sure. Have a seat. He gestured to the small corner of chair he was not occupying, which would not have accommodated one of James's buttocks, let alone his entire bum.  
  
Er, no thanks, James said, taking a seat on the floor beside the chair. He scooted close to Sirius so they could talk quietly enough not to be overheard by the others in the common room. Look, about this whole you and Remus thing . . . he began quickly, then paused, trying to choose his words carefully.  
  
What about it? Sirius asked vaguely, studying the fingernails of his left hand.  
  
First of all, what made you want to go out with him? James inquired, genuinely curious. I thought you liked girls.  
  
Sirius shrugged. He wanted to and I thought I'd give it a go. He smirked. And he may be a boy, but he's a pisser of a kisser.  
  
More than I needed to know, James said quickly. Anyway, did you tell Peter you two were going out?  
  
He asked, so I told him, Sirius said simply, I've got nothing to hide.  
  
I think you should consider hiding it, James pressed. Maybe you haven't noticed, but not a lot of people are happy that there's a gay couple at Hogwa-  
  
Sirius snapped.  
  
You know what I mean, James said, sighing impatiently. And since when? You could've had any girl in the school, so why are you looking at boys all of a sudden?  
  
Oy, he started it. And it never hurts to try something new, Jimbo, Sirius answered, almost chiding.  
  
James shook his head. You're disappointing a lot of girls, you know. Have you even seen the looks you two've been getting?  
  
Sirius swatted at the air. Of course I have, I'm not blind!  
  
So, why?  
  
Because it's fun.  
  
James rolled his eyes. You really are just a pissing showoff, aren't you?  
  
That's rich coming from you, Sirius quipped acidly. You know, I seem to remember from yesterday, someone throwing a copy of_Hogwarts, A History_at me and telling me to get my fag arse out of the way. Now, was that you or Evans?  
  
Anger flared in James's voice as he hissed, What does that have to do with_anything_?!  
  
You're worse than she is, that's what! Sirius snarled. Lecturing me like she does. If you keep this up, soon, I won't be able to tell you two apart!  
  
James opened his mouth to shout something venomous in response, but he saw that the girls at the table were looking up from their work, so he took a deep breath to quell his anger. Lily's going to use a memory charm on Peter, he whispered through clenched teeth, changing the subject to avert an outburst. I asked her today.  
  
Sirius queried, forgetting their quarrel and looking slightly alarmed.  
  
Because he knows you're going out with Remus, of course, James answered. Do you have any idea how dangerous that can be for you? Do you remember what he did to me in Charms back in our first year?  
  
With Twideon? Sirius said, trying not smirk, I remember. And you've got a point, he admitted. Can't speak for Rem, of course, but I don't really feel like being blackmailed.  
  
James said, nodding. So after Lily makes it so he never knew about this whole thing, no more lovey-dovey or touchy-feely in public, all right?  
  
Sirius sighed pitifully and made puppy eyes at James.   
  
Just keep it behind closed doors is all I'm saying, James reasoned. You know, just lie low. And you know what mean by lie low', Sirius. James glared at Sirius who'd broken out into a very cheeky smirk.  
  
All right, all right, Sirius relented. We'll tone it down.  
  
James said, satisfied. Lily's really putting her neck on the line, you know. She could get expelled for using a Memory Charm without a licence.  
  
Oh? That's_grand_of her, Sirius said, smiling beatifically, Well, you send her my love and tell her when Rem and I decide to have a shag, she's welcome to watch.  
  
Augh, you're_sick_! James yelled, snatching a pillow off a nearby armchair and throwing it at Sirius as hard as he could.  
  
The pillow hit Sirius in the face and he snapped up into a sitting position and hurled the pillow back at James. The pillow from his own armchair followed, catching James in the chest. Before James had a chance to throw either of these back at Sirius, Sirius had pounced and the two of them were wrestling on the floor. The noise made the girls at the table look up from their books once again. When they saw the two boys laughing and grappling, they rolled their eyes as if to say Boys will be boys and went back to their studying.  
  
By the time Sirius managed to pin James to the floor, both were with breathless with laughter and their hair looked as though it been nosed through by a mob of nifflers.  
  
No . . . fair . . . ! James gasped, struggling against Sirius's hold. He saw Sirius staring down at him, his hair boyishly tousled, and for a moment, everything was forgotten and they were simply two inseparable - if not incorrigible - best friends. He grinned. Just like old times, eh, Sirius?  
  
Pinned ye again, Jimbo, Sirius panted triumphantly, Just like old times.  
  
Ah, shut your face and let me up, you prat! James growled. Sirius snickered and obliged. James picked himself up and decided that it was high time he got some shut-eye. It'd been quite a day. Well, I'm off to bed, he muttered and made his way toward the staircase to the dormitory.  
  
Hoy, James, Sirius called after him. James stopped and looked over his shoulder. Sirius grinned. Congrats on the game yesterday.  
  
James grinned also. Night, Sirius.The following day at lunch, Sirius took two helpings of everything and went up to the Hospital Wing. He knew the house elves could just as easily bring Remus his lunch, but his feelings for Remus, not to mention pride, demanded that he be the one to do it. Letting a bug-eyed and bat-eared creature of knee-height bring Sirius's boyfriend lunch-in-bed when Sirius could do it himself wasn't really on.  
  
He found Remus laid in a bed, battered and exhausted, but smiling and happy to see him. The two ate, then played wizard's chess with James's set, which Sirius had taken the liberty of borrowing.  
  
That looks like a nasty one, Sirius commented as he took Remus's queen. He pointed to an exceptionally bloody bandage on his forearm.  
  
It was pretty nasty, Remus agreed, instinctively touching the bandage over the wound.  
  
Rough night last night? Sirius inquired.  
  
Remus nodded. The worst in quite a while. Madam Pomfrey wants me to stay the night, here.  
  
Sirius sighed darkly. Jeez, can't they throw some rabbits or chickens or something in there so you won't attack yourself so much?  
  
Remus elbowed him. That's really mean. Wouldn't do any good anyway. I only attack people.  
  
Not animals? Sirius asked, surprised. Remus shook his head. Just people.  
  
All at once, Sirius broke out into a grin. That gives me an idea . . .So what's this all about? Peter said, sweeping off a spot on Sirius's mattress with his hand several times and looking it over carefully before taking a seat. After dinner that night, Sirius had called James and Peter to the dormitory to share a super, secret, special scheme.'  
  
If this is about our plan to lock Snivellus in the girls' toilet next Tues-  
  
It's not, Sirius said quickly, cutting James off. He was positively quivering with excitement, thrilled at his own brilliance and he simply couldn't wait to tell them his plan. The plan is, we're going to give Remus a present.  
  
Peter blinked. But his birthday isn't till the middle of summer.  
  
Sirius rolled his eyes. All the more time to get it ready, Pete. Lemme explain. Every full moon, Remus tears himself up, right?  
  
the other two said together.  
  
And he does it because he hasn't got any people to bite, so he bites himself, right?  
  
  
  
Well, we're going to put an end to that. We're going to go with him to that bloody shack and keep him from bloodying himself up, Sirius stated, grinning brilliantly for the climax. As Animagi.  
  
Peter's eyes bulged. You mean let him rip us apart instead of himself?! he said shrilly.  
  
No, you dolt, Sirius said heavily. Remus and I were talking today and he said werewolves only attack people. They're not dangerous to animals.  
  
So what you're saying, James began, more for himself than for the others, is that we turn into animals and keep him company in the Shrieking Shack and try to keep him from hurting himself.  
  
Sirius confirmed. But the thing is, we've never really been serious about becoming Animagi before. It was all in fun. Now, we're going to have to really get on it. Treat it like a regular class because now we actually have a pretty good reason for doing it.  
  
James nodded thoughtfully, then grinned in that adventurous way that suited him so well. Well, I'm game.  
  
Me, too, Peter said, looking nervous, but rather proud of himself for taking on such an intrepid endeavour.  
  
Sirius said approvingly. I'm thinking every full moon, we can meet and practice in here.  
  
And since Remus is still in the hospital wing, we can start now. That said, James went over to his bed and retrieved the two heavy textbooks he'd kept hidden under his mattress.  
  
What about Osgood? Peter inquired, looking over at the fifth bed in the dormitory. How'll we keep him from coming up here while we're practicing?  
  
We'll fob him off somehow. Shouldn't be too hard, James said dismissively, placing the textbooks on Sirius's bed. The three crowded round. They hadn't looked into the prospect at all since the night James had gotten the books back from the library and they were going to be about it this time, so they decided to go back to the beginning and at least skim the basics.  
  
Do we get to pick? Peter asked, suddenly very interested. What kind of animal we turn into, I mean.  
  
James said, shrugging then smiling ambitiously. I'd like to be an eagle.  
  
Sirius grinned.   
  
Cause then I could skive off classes and fly without a broom whenever I wanted to, James answered. And such a handsome profile, he added thoughtfully, running a fingertip along the bridge of his nose.  
  
I dunno what I'd want to be, Peter said. Something fast and clever, I guess, he added a little sadly.  
  
I know what Sirius wants to be, James injuncted slyly. He wants to be a wolf. James threw his arms round Sirius's shoulders from behind and whispered tauntingly into his ear, So he can have little Mister Moon-Boy_every_day of the month!  
  
Sod off, Sirius groaned, rolling his eyes and seeing to it that James fell to the floor in a graceless heap. Peter looked on, puzzled. Lily had dutifully performed the Memory Charm and he hadn't the foggiest idea what they were going on about. Before he could ask, Sirius, who was suddenly reminded that he'd need to talk to little Mister Moon-Boy' about keeping their relationship behind closed doors, spoke.  
  
Oh look, he said, It says here that very few wizards can pick what animal to become. The magic itself will choose whatever shape best suits him or her.  
  
Ah, well, whatever, James said, a little disappointed as he picked himself up off the floor and climbed back on the bed. He scooted next to Sirius and leaned in for a closer look at the text. Looks like the first thing we've got to do is decide on a movement because we want to be able to do this without wands, he said, It says,_the wizard who desires to become an Animagus must first develop a specific motion, usually of the hand, to trigger the transformation. A very common choice is a clenching of the fist,'_Fair enough. We can go with that.  
  
Peter pointed to the spot where James had left off reading. It also says that we need to pay special attention to the movement and be able to do the exact inverse of it. After all, we want to be able to change back and look just like our regular selves when we do.  
  
Well then, I guess we can start there, Sirius said.  
  
Here, I have an idea, James said, pulling his satchel to him and fishing his inkwell from it. He dipped his index finger into the inkwell and dabbed a little drop of ink onto each fingertip of his other hand. He then made a fist so that his fingertips touched his palm and left a row of little ink stains on it. Now, try to touch those same marks again, he explained, passing the inkwell over.  
  
Good thinking, Peter said, taking the inkwell and repeating what James had done, then handing the inkwell to Sirius, who did the same. Once the marks had been made, Sirius sat back and leaned against one the bed posts. He crossed his legs and laid his hand in his lap so he could watch it closely and made a fist. He missed his marks. He looked up and saw, with some degree of reassurance, that his friends were not having much more success than he was.  
  
This is hard, Peter commented, holding his hand absurdly close to his face.  
  
James said simply, concentrating on his own hand. This isn't going to happen overnight. It takes most wizards months to become Animagi. Years, sometimes.  
  
Well, let's practice hard. Something like this we can practice any time, even during class. We can just put our hands under the desk and make fists, Sirius said, furrowing his brow as he stared determinedly down at his fist. The sooner we get this down,' he thought to himself, the sooner little Mister Moon-Boy will be able to come away from his namesake without looking like a serial killer and a suicidal psycho rolled into one.'When Remus returned to Gryffindor Tower the following evening, he found Sirius waiting for him outside the Portrait Hole, haughty and handsome as ever as he leaned against the wall with his hands thrust into his pockets. A smile quirked his lips when he saw Remus approaching, the too-long sleeves of his ubiquitous jumper hiding the evidence of his recent lunar escapade. said Remus.  
  
Sirius stayed by the wall, letting Remus come to him. He looked left, then right, and when he was certain that they were, indeed, alone, he returned Remus's greeting by placing a hand on the other's waist. He made a face. Ugh. Wool again.  
  
Remus laughed softly and grabbed Sirius's hand, moving it lower, away from the offending jumper and placed it on his hip instead. Sirius smirked as he felt the denim-clad contour of Remus's hip. Scrawny little sod, aren't you?  
  
Sirius often made little sidelong comments about Remus's weight (or lack thereof), but he was never condescending about it, so Remus never took offence. It also gave Remus an excuse to explore Sirius's own commendable physique.  
  
Remus grinned and slid his hands under Sirius's shirt. Not all of us are as lucky as you in that department, he stated lightly, his fingertips praising the contours of Sirius's smooth, muscular torso. He was tempted to snake both arms round Sirius's waist, but he knew that his sleeves would irritate the other's skin, so he pushed temptation aside and simply worshipped Sirius with his hands from the front. Sirius grinned his approval and closed his eyes, pleasure making his dark lashes flutter.  
  
Then, to Remus's surprise, Sirius inclined his head and gently bit the soft flesh of the other boy's neck. Something between a euphoric sigh and an alarmed squeak escaped Remus's lips. Who knew Sirius was a biter? And for that matter, who knew Remus, of all people, liked being bitten? Funny that the one who had been immensely terrified of being bitten by a werewolf was now biting said werewolf himself. Irony, it seemed, was not without a perverse sense of humour.  
  
After a moment, the delicious friction of teeth-on-skin-on-teeth vanished from Remus's neck as Sirius's mouth moved to Remus's ear. I need to talk to you about something.The next few weeks passed fairly quickly. James took a bludger to the ribs, but still caught the Snitch in their next Quidditch match. Peter received a very rare on an assignment in Potions. Following Sirius's talk with Remus, the two busied themselves with pretending that their little love affair' had never happened while conducting it in private. If asked about it, they denied everything. Sirius threatened to thump anyone who spoke of it and his word carried a lot of weight due to his popularity amongst the students. If James was asked, he told them that it had just been yet another of Sirius's publicity stunts and found that that was what a great many of them had thought all along. Remus had been a trifle worried that Sirius would start flirting with girls again. Sirius did still like to show off and act up whenever he had an audience (Once an attention-whore, always an attention-whore, was Lily's reasoning), but the winks, smiles and eye contact stopped. Girls still eyed him hopefully, but he no longer gave them any response. Remus, for his part, was no small bit grateful for this and he made every effort to return the favour.  
  
Between Sirius's threats and the collective refusal of James, Lily and Remus to discuss the matter, the fleeting romance between the two boys had been all but forgotten by the next full moon.  
  
That day, James had a Quidditch match, which Sirius, Remus and Peter happily attended. It was a beautiful, sunny day with a few whispy clouds strewn here and there and a light wind blowing from the south; perfect flying weather.  
  
Remus felt pleasantly cheerful as he took seat at Sirius's left, while Peter sat at his right. The three watched the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams enter the field and the spectators gathered round the Quidditch pitch erupted in cheers. Remus could almost feel the pride swelling within James as he turned to wave at the crowd.  
  
The team captains shook hands, then Madam Pegasus released the balls and the game was started. Remus and Peter were immediately swept up in the excitement, but their enthusiasm was nothing compared to that of Sirius.  
  
While he didn't jabber incessantly about the sport or draw little snitches in the blocks on his calendar or plan game strategies during breakfast (using bacon and toast crusts for props) as James tended to, Sirius loved Quidditch as much as his friend did. Of course, he couldn't enjoy it in quite the same way James did, being a spectator and not a player, but his energy and zeal were just as furious. When Slytherin scored, he snarled and swore so fiercely that Peter actually leaned away from him, looking positively terrified. However, when the quaffle left the hands of Gryffindor Chaser, Tracey Kilderkin, and sailed through one of the three hoops, Sirius leapt from his seat, cheering thunderously, then turned manically back and forth between Remus and Peter in turn, shouting, He scored! He scored! Did you see that?! He scored!_GOOD ON YOU, KILDERKIN!  
  
_When James finally caught the Snitch, Sirius jumped clear from his seat, nearly upending the one in front of him. he positively howled, punching the air with his fists in triumph before hugging Remus and Peter in turn and nearly snapping their necks. He snuck a quick kiss on the lips into Remus's hug, but everyone round them was so riotously caught up in the thrill of victory that it went quite unseen by anyone.  
  
As they returned to the castle, the adrenaline was beginning to ebb from their sytems and curiousity sprang upon Remus. He waited for a suitable pause in James and Sirius's excited discussion of the match, then spoke. I'd think you'd be on the team with James, he said to Sirius. How come you're not?  
  
Sirius's brow quirked, but he shrugged casually. I've got other talents.  
  
James snorted. That's a nice way of saying, Why Remus, I'm not on the Quidditch team because I am utter crap on a broom,'. He yelped as Sirius cuffed him across the ear. Oy, you know it's true!  
  
Sirius shrugged again, defeated. I've got a lot of gifts, but flying isn't one of them.  
  
Peter put in a little timidly. You're a brilliant flier, James. Next to you, anyone would look like an amateur.  
  
True enough, James said with a nod, a cocky smile crossing his face. Remember our first flying lesson, Sirius?  
  
Sirius shuddered. How could I forget? When Remus looked inquiringly at him, he explained. Halfway in, I pushed off from the ground too hard, shot up into the air and ended up flying right through Dumbledore's office window.  
  
Madam Pegasus had to levitate him to the hospital wing, James continued, It took the whole Quidditch team to hold him down while Madam Pomfrey pulled out the pieces of glass.  
  
Remus commented, wincing at the mental image of Madam Pomfrey standing over Sirius with glass shards sticking out of his body like thorns while seven persons clad in red and gold pinned his arms and legs in a starfish position.  
  
Pete here didn't come off much better, Sirius said a bit defensively. He couldn't even get the broom off the ground till six lessons in.  
  
And then when he did get up in the air, James broke in, grinning, he stayed there for about thirty seconds before taking a nice spill into the lake.  
  
What about you, Remus? Peter said quickly, turning slightly red and seeming keen on changing the subject. Do you play? Quidditch, I mean.  
  
Remus shrugged. I've never played Quidditch, but I'm an all right flier, I guess. Mum taught me when we settled down in Yorkshire. The farm is huge, so there was plenty of room to practice. He smiled. But once, I decided to try flying at night and it went all wrong. I lost control of the broom and couldn't get back down and I ended up stuck on the barn roof till morning.  
  
James made a face. Bet that was a fine piece of fun.  
  
Sirius looked at James expectantly.   
  
James looked back, puzzled. Well, what?  
  
We've all shared our worst experiences on a broomstick. Sirius smirked. So let's hear yours. Or am I going to have to tell it for you?  
  
Panic flickered briefly over James's features, then his eyes flashed dangerously. You wouldn't dare . . .  
  
Sure I would! Sirius laughed, then turned to Remus and Peter. All right, so it was summer holiday after second year and ickle Jimbo, Evans and me here were just come home from the Highland Games in our kilts, right? Well, Evans wasn't in a kilt because she's a girl, f course. Anyway, this stupid sod . . . He jerked his thumb at James, who was growing steadily redder in the face. He decides he wants a go on his broom -showing off for Evans, you know- and can't be arsed with changing out of his kilt, see? And it was a really windy day- OW!!!  
  
Sirius's hand flew to his head, having just received a sound thwack with the handle of James's broom. The owner of the broom increased his pace and stormed heatedly ahead of them, Peter trailing along after him, sputtering what solace he could. This suited Sirius just fine and he inclined his head toward Remus. You're not supposed to wear anything under a kilt, you know, he said, barely above whispering. And James does everything by the book. Let's just say poor Lily got to know him better than she ever really wanted to.  
  
Remus grinned and followed Sirius inside.There was a party in the Gryffindor Common Room to celebrate their recent victory over Slytherin. James seemed too swept up in the mess of red banners and sweets from Honeydukes to stay angry with Sirius and was soon back to laughing and joking with him like always, as best friends are wont to do.  
  
As the party's momentum reached its peak, Madam Pomfrey came up to the tower and pulled Remus aside. She told him that she had just recieved a patient whose condition - he kept vomiting dirty socks - was growing steadily worse and she probably would not be able to walk Remus down to the Willow that night. After making sure he knew the way and how to sedate the tree, she told him he should make his way down to the Shack within the next hour and left.  
  
When Remus returned to the party, Peter was waiting for him.  
  
Going to the Shack, then? he asked, keeping his voice low enough so that Remus could just hear him over the general din of the party. He nodded and explained that Madam Pomfrey had her hands full and that he'd best be off. Peter, who had just been asked by James to go nick some more food from the kitchens, offered to walk him down. Remus cast a hopeful glance over at Sirius, but the other boy was rather engrossed in a game of gobstones with James and Tracey Kilderkin. He then turned back to Peter and nodded. He waited for Peter to get the invisibility cloak from upstairs, then the two departed through the Portrait Hole, just in time to hear Sirius shouting to James over the noise, And how about that sock-hocking hex I put on Snivellus, eh?  
  
Peter, for all his habitual clumsiness, had amazing stealth. When they started off, he'd disappeared from view beneath the cloak and didn't make even the slightest sound as they proceeded toward the castle entrance. As Remus was making his way down the staircase and across the hallways, he'd found himself wondering whether or not Peter was actually still there and, consequently, whether or not it was okay to scratch that itch in that place.  
  
When he made it outside, Remus saw the faint impressions of shoes on grass trailing his own, indicating that Peter was still with him. The sun was progressing sluggishly behind the mountains, feathering pink and gold into the base of the blue-black sky. The long, black shadows of evening were steadily creeping over the grounds.  
  
Looks like it's going to snow, doesn't it? came Peter's voice at Remus's left.  
  
Remus shrugged. I suppose.  
  
Winter holiday starts this week-end. It'd be nice to have snow at Christmas, Peter mused aloud. I've never stayed at school for holiday, but I heard they run magic snow all round the corridors.  
  
Remus said, not entirely interested. He found conversing with what could have easily been a disembodied voice to be a little disquieting. Er, I think it's dark enough and we're far enough away from the castle that you can take the cloak off now.  
  
There was a rustle of fabric as the cape was flung off and Peter appeared at Remus's side. Perhaps he'd detected his friend's unease, as he looked a bit apologetic in the waning, crimson-orange light of the sun. There's something very nice about snow at Christmas, Peter continued as they neared the thrashing willow tree. They reached the point at which they were as close to the tree as was safe, and stopped. It's almost like, no matter where I am at Christmas, if there's snow, it feels like home. He shook his head, embarrassed at his sentimentality. That sounds really stupid.  
  
Not really, Remus said, picking up a small stone from the ground. I've never had a Christmas away from home, but I'm sure I'd feel the same way.  
  
Peter looked grateful. I like talking to you, Remus. If it were James or Sirius I said that to, they'd laugh at me.  
  
Remus smiled to himself. Sirius and James laugh at a lot of people, he said as he retrieved his wand from his pocket.  
  
No, really, Peter said, sounding disheartened all of a sudden. I don't think they like me very much. I mean, James is so good at everything and Sirius is so cool. I like them a lot but I think they're . . . I dunno . . . He studied his shoe. They're too good for me, or something.  
  
Remus shook his head. That's not true, he said, though he wasn't entirely sure he was correct. He wasn't very good at this comforting-a-friend business, due to lack of experience, but he decided to have go. However solitary, Remus Lupin was nothing if not loyal and it was not in his nature to let a friend suffer alone. They like you. They like you lots. They'd have said so if they didn't. Remus gave himself a mental pat on that back. That much, he felt, was true, at least. He fished for some more logic. Look, they're really popular, right? They can pick and choose their friends however they please. If they didn't like you, they wouldn't let you hang about with them, would they? Just look how they treat Snape. If they didn't like you, you'd probably be chucking up socks by now. He smiled, hoping it was a convincing smile and gave Peter a bracing pat on the shoulder for good measure. Then, he really went out on a limb as he put in his final word. If they can be friends with a werewolf, don't you think they can be friends with you?  
  
Peter looked up sharply and broke out into a grin. You're right, he said resolutely. I'm probably just being paranoid. He looked away and added humbly,   
  
Sure thing, Remus said, feeling pleased with himself. He raised his wand and tossed the stone, only to freeze it in midair, then guide it past the crazed tree's thrashing limbs. With a short, downward flick of his wand, the stone fell right onto a particular knot and the tree froze. A hush of stillness fell over the two boys as the paralysed tree loomed over them, a few faint slivers of leaves falling daintily from its branches.  
  
See you tomorrow, Remus said as he headed toward the tree, hunkering down and sliding backwards into the hole hidden amongst the roots.  
  
See you, Peter answered. Remus waved, then turned and disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel.The next morning, Remus awoke quietly, inhaling the faint, mouldy scent of old bedclothes. He blinked, bringing the grey interior of the Shrieking Shack into focus. The pale glow of morning was streaming in through the hair-thin gaps between the boards that had been nailed over the windows. Remus yawned and dragged his aching body from the bed whilst surveying what damage he had done to himself. He'd left some angry red claw marks on his torso and upper thighs and he'd bitten himself a few times on his forearms as usual, but the wounds were not severe.  
  
After pulling on his shirt, trousers and robes, he took the tunnel back to the world at large. When he emerged, Remus had to shield his eyes. The entirety of the grounds was covered in a heavy blanket of glistening snow, blinding white tinged with pink in the light of the sunrise. He then realised that he had gotten up earlier than usual and that Madam Pomfrey wasn't due to retrieve him for another hour or so. Snow was still falling from the sky, pale and pure in its abundance as it danced silently about him. This in itself captivated him so that he hardly noticed that the Willow was already frozen.  
  
All at once, Remus was seized round the middle and yanked backwards. He turned and found himself face-to-face with Sirius, who was hurriedly throwing shimmering folds of invisibility cloak over the both of them. Pete told me how to freeze it, Sirius said, grinning, his eyes glinting silver-blue with the glare of the snow. He was still in his pyjamas and his face was flushed with cold. He looked tired, as if he hadn't slept all night. (He hadn't. He'd sat up in the common room long after James and Peter had gone to sleep, reading up on the Animagus transformation and practicing what he could.) Remus couldn't speak as he was tugged behind the Willow. When they were out of sight of anyone in the castle who might be looking out their windows, Sirius threw the cloak off, letting it fall in a graceful heap at their feet, silver on white.  
  
They stood quite still for a moment, a safe distance away from the tree, which was beginning to regain movement, then Remus suddenly felt inexplicable laughter escaping him. Forgetting the pain of his wounds, he held his hands out in offering to Sirius who smiled and took them into his own. Leaning away from each other, the two then began to spin, losing themselves in the momentum and whirl of a white, white world as they turned. Remus saw only Sirius before him, the other boy's dark hair flying about his head as he tilted it back in a bout of laughter, their shoes printing harmony upon the white ground as the snow danced with them.  
  
When they broke apart, Remus fell backward, caught in the afters of rotation. The snow was soft on his back. It melted beneath his body and crept into his hair and the fibres of his clothing, the cold nipping at his skin like it wanted to love him.  
  
The world shuddered into clarity. Lifting his head from the ground, he saw that Sirius was sprawled out a short distance away. Pulling himself up dazedly, Remus crawled on his hands and knees toward the other boy, the snow giving way easily and with a faint crunching sound.  
  
Sirius's eyes were open, staring dreamily upward. He inclined his head to the side very slightly when Remus drew near. As the two looked at each other, Remus couldn't help thinking that Sirius had never looked more beautiful. His pale skin was tinged with pink like the light of the sunrise on the snow. His eyes were deep and shining as ice and his hair was impenetrably velvet-black against the shimmering white that surrounded him.  
  
The world was exquisitely silent, save for the soft, unobtrusive rustling sound of the Whomping Willow's leaves, like the whisper of breath over skin. Snowflakes tumbled ethereally from above, nestling in the darkness of Sirius's hair. A solitary snowflake landed innocently upon Sirius's lips and Remus leaned in to kiss it away. At the first tentative touch of Remus's mouth, Sirius lifted his arms to Remus's shoulders and pulled him down so that they were flush against each other. Sirius deepened the kiss making Remus gasp against his mouth.  
  
When they finally surrendered to the need for oxygen, Remus lifted his head and looked into Sirius's eyes. You've got dog breath.  
  
So do you. Sirius grinned matter-of-factly and an unspoken agreement was reached. Mutual morning breath was okay. They kissed again, very softly this time. Remus touched his lips to Sirius's jaw and neck. The skin was smooth and cool and he felt Sirius shivering beneath him. You're cold.  
  
Really? I couldn't tell. Sirius snorted. And here I thought lying in a foot of snow in cotton pyjamas would be like lying on a beach in the bloody tropics. How disappointing.  
  
You're hopeless.  
  
You try it, then!  
  
Remus yelped in surprise as he was flung sideways, then pinned down and straddled by a triumphant-looking Sirius. The cold was doubly sharp against his back with Sirius's weight pressing him down into the snow. Somewhere behind him, the Willow's branches could be heard, slashing at the air.  
  
Sirius leaned in and bit gently at Remus's neck. Winter holiday starts this week-end, he said softly. Are you staying at school or going home?  
  
Remus didn't answer, though he couldn't help but smile. If he hadn't understood what Peter had said the previous night, he understood it now. The morning had brought freshly fallen snow, and with it, Sirius. At that very moment, Remus felt, he was at home. 


End file.
